Love Is Blind: Leonardo In Love
by Quisty Almasy1
Summary: When the boys rescue Madeline, a young blind woman, in Central Park, Leonardo learns that it's not what's on the outside, but what's on the inside that counts. Please R & R!
1. No Means No

Author's comments: Well, this isn't my first piece of fan fiction but it is my very first TMNT fiction, so that still obligates a certain amount of gentleness in your reviews, right? Um, right? [silence ... someone coughs in the back] Uh, hee hee, okay. Well, after reading quite a lot of Raphael centered romances I decided to be unique (just like everyone else) and focus instead on another member of the group, one whom is often stilted and paid very little attention to: Leonardo. Now, while I like the red-wearing-tough-but-really-sweet- underneath turtle as much as the next girl, I thought maybe Leo could use some TLC.  
  
PS for Donatello fans: Yes I know Donnie is probably more fiction-neglected then Leonardo, but I just can't seem to bring myself to write a romantic fiction about him. Sorry!  
  
Oh, and this fiction is rated R for lots of adult stuff like language, sexual situations and violence. So if you're not old enough to be reading this type of thing then leave now! My status as a post-teen living at home, mooching off her parents with no income will not accommodate any law suit payments your parents may get up on their morale high horse to sling at me if they catch you reading this!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. My only claim to this is my OC 'Madeline'. See above excuse on why not to sue me.  
  
--- CHAPTER 1 ---  
  
Autumn rains were beginning to lay their claim upon the city of New York in August—the lingering humidity of the summer made for thick downpours which drenched the canyons of skyscrapers and flushed the gutters. The smell of moisture, sweet and heady clung to the night air and in Central Park, the scent was laden with aromas of dew-sprinkled grass, damp wood and sod.  
  
Madeline silently thanked the last shower as her fingertips skirted over the silky texture of the flower petals, catching the droplets clinging to their edges on her nails. The particular bloom she had been caressing was a perfectly shaped rose bud; she knew this by the thorns guarding the stem, warding off any would-be collectors. A rose would have been nice, in a little vase on her night stand, she mused, but too pointless to justify picking the flower. After all, what use would a blind girl have for pretty flowers which would sooner wilt and die?  
  
No, it was better to leave the roses be in the garden beds, let them shed their petals and form the bulbous hips ready for new flowers next time. She could enjoy their soft feel and sugary perfume just as well here. Leaning down, she cupped the cluster of satin against her palm, brushing the tip of her nose along the outer corona, inhaling deeply with a content grin curling up the corners of her lips. As a drop of rain clung to her skin she laughed out loud and flinched back, wiping the water away with an amused chuckle.  
  
A frigid breeze which passed down the gravel path and stirred the leaves overhead into a dull rustle chilled the moisture on the back of her hand, making a shiver climb up her spine. It was enough incentive to make Madeline decide now would be a good time to go home. She must have spent at least a few hours here tonight and it was getting late. She had enough sense to know that you didn't stay out alone for too long in New York...  
  
The infamous crime rate attested to that.  
  
Truthfully, she would have felt safer with a guide dog by her side, but unfortunately the que for such resources was just too extensive. She had put her application for one of the highly trained animal companions into the government over five years ago and still she was relying on the humble white cane. Two years ago they had told her she would be next in line in a matter of weeks. One year ago it had been a matter of months. And now, the last time she contacted the Guide Dog Society, she had been informed it could be years. A guide dog wasn't essential, she conceded, she could manage just fine with her cane. But at times like this, it would have been a comfort.  
  
Now, did I come in from the west gate or the south gate? Madeline wondered, pausing to stand in the middle of the pathway and get her bearings. Had she passed the fountain yet? She wasn't sure, she had been too distracted in her thoughts to remember if she had heard the sound of the water. Such a simple thing like finding your way back out of a park, even one as large as Central, was made just that much harder for her. "Oh dear," the young woman mused aloud, putting her free hand on her hip and creasing her brow in concentration.  
  
As she stood there, straining her ears to make out the nearest sound of traffic which could help direct her to the streets, Madeline felt something cool and wet drip onto her hand where it gripped her cane. "Hm?" she murmured, wiping it off on her jeans, but then another fell on her cheek, striking her eyelashes and causing her to squint in reflex. Another on her forehead, then more on her bottom lip. As the hissing sound grew steadily louder, Madeline realized it was starting to rain again.  
  
No sooner the thought passed through her mind then the deluge hit with full gusto. The raindrops pelted down, growing very thick very fast. Madeline gave an exasperated cry at her own foolishness for not bringing an umbrella and started to run.  
  
She wasn't sure where she was running to, she just followed the wet sound of the gravel path under her sneakers, sweeping her cane furiously infront of her toes to warn her of any obstacles as she went. Distantly, she thought she heard the sound of other footsteps crunching the walkway behind her, but the sound of the rain pattering against everything all around her was too disorientating for her to be sure. A tremor shuddered through her body which had very little to do with her clothing quickly soaking through to her skin. She ran faster, growing careless with her cane and almost veered off the edge of the path into the garden bed, desperate to just get out of the park and into a more public area, haunted by the feeling she was being followed. She could feel the weight of someone watching her like a giant hand pressing harder against her back with every step.  
  
Suddenly, the sound of a boot thudded down heavily right on her heels and a cold, wet hand almost jerked her off her feet as it clamped down over her mouth from behind. Another stopped her from sliding onto her back by snaking around her waist and dragging her against a male chest, at the same time effectively pinning her arm which gripped the cane to her side at the elbow.  
  
Madeline struggled, thrashing and trying to scream out past the fingers on her lips, but was only rewarded by being tilted back, lifting her kicking feet off the ground and thrown against something hard.  
  
The body of her attacker followed close behind, slamming into her back and pressing her against the surface —as its rough texture grazed her cheek she realized it was a tree— his hands wedging themselves infront of her to grip a fistful of her breast through her t-shirt. Warm breath which smelt too sweet and foul puffed against the back of her ear. "Scream, bitch, and I'll fuckin' cut you up!"  
  
"Please! Don't—!!"she whimpered, squirming against the tree trunk, trying to dislodge his hands from under her jacket. She was shaken viciously by a fist wound tightly into her hair, her face thudded so hard against the wood that the salty taste of her own blood filled her mouth.  
  
"Shut up!" he growled, using his chest to crush her upper body into the tree and his free hand began to roughly pull and tear at the fly of her jeans, fighting to shove his meaty hands inside and cup her. The very thought made her stomach pitch and roll in revulsion and Madeline bucked her hips desperately.  
  
Deciding it was better to risk it then just stand there and let him rape her –after all what did she have to loose?—the blind girl shrieked out: "Someone help mmmffffff!" The hand at her breast let go and wrapped itself tightly over her mouth again, as he pried his fingers into the corner of her jawbone painfully, like he was trying to tear it off.  
  
"I said shut up!" the assailant snapped, pure rage for her defiance poisoning every word. Madeline was spun around hard and struck, the resounding –CRACK!— of his open fist striking her cheek was accompanied by pain exploding from beneath her left eye like her cheekbone had just been shattered.  
  
She wanted to cry out in pain, but too quickly she collapsed to the wet lawn face first, stunned with such acute dizziness the ground seemed to rock and tilt beneath her.  
  
"Dude, you're rapin' a blind chick?! That's SO wrong!"  
  
"C'mon, Mikey. Let's teach this asshole some manners!"  
  
Madeline felt sick, like she was going to thrown up from the mad Tilt-O- Whirl her equilibrium had become, and she groaned, clutching fistfuls of the grass to anchor herself. Somewhere near by she head a dull –THOK— followed by a heavy thud.  
  
"Raph! Watch your language around the lady!"  
  
"Ahhhh, quit bein' a fucking boy-scout, Leo and just get her, will ya?"  
  
With one foot in the waking world and other in unconsciousness, Madeline felt large hands clutch her shoulders, rolling her onto her back. She moaned wordlessly, barely possessing enough of her faculties to worry who had her now or what their intentions were. Those hands slid under her back and knees, lifting her with a masculine grunt and shouldering her head against what she thought was a leather jacket, slick and smooth with the rain.  
  
As she relaxed limply into the hold, the sounds of voices chased her into oblivion:  
  
"... Isn't going to be happy about this..."  
  
"... You want me to do, Donnie? Leave her...."  
  
"... up, guys! I'm cold and I just wanna get home to a nice, re-heated ..."  
  
"... Dammit ..."  
  
----------  
  
Enter our heroes in the half-shell! Rather graphic and violent for a first chapter I know, but hey, I did warn you at the top of the page! I waste no time in fulfilling my ratings! When I say R, I mean R, folks.  
  
So, assuming I didn't loose any readers because of that, continue on for the next chapter to discover Madeline's fate! Who could the mystery men be I wonder? (Do I really need to answer that?) -QA 


	2. Really Bad Timing

Okay, so having ranted everything that needs to be ranted at the top of Chapter 1, then I guess all that needs to be said here is to repeat the Disclaimer right? And if you don't know what I'm talking about, what are you doing starting at Chapter 2? Go back and read no.1 first, impatient!  
  
I want to thank my one and only reviewer JeFfYzGaL2: it's always nice to get positive feedback on a story. And once again, sorry I beat you to your concept, but like I said, no reason why you can't still give it a go. I'd like to read your version someday!  
  
Disclaimer: As fore-mentioned I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. Though I'm working on it! The OC 'Madeline' however is a creation of my own imagination and therefore belongs to me.  
  
-- CHAPTER 2 --  
  
It was sometime after eleven o'clock at night when they returned to the lair, spilling into the cavernous subway platform home from the sewer tunnels, wet, cold and a mixed bag of opinions on their guest.  
  
"Bbrrrr! I like water as much as the next mutant turtle, but I call dibs on the first hot shower!" Michaelangelo hollered, snagging one of the old tattered blankets which draped over the back of the couch, slinging it around his shoulders and dancing into the subway car trying to dry the freezing rain from his skin enroute.  
  
"Mikey! Shhhhh! You're gonna wake up Master Splinter!" Donatello snapped as he padded down the stairs decisively more silent then his brother.  
  
Leonardo however, was not so quick to enter the lair, pausing at the top of the steps, looking down at the human woman, wet and shivering in his hold. The dim floodlights rigged up overhead showed her pale skin colourless and waxy, the full pout of her lips tinted blue from the cold. Her dark hair hung heavily over his arm, mattered into gentle ringlets and dripping water into a steadily spreading puddle at his feet.  
  
She looked so fragile to him then, so incredibly tender, it struck him for a moment out of time how he could be clutching her so tightly and not shatter her to pieces like a china doll.  
  
Leonardo had never been so admiring of a human before, he didn't even trust humans, Splinter had warned him far too many times of their ignorant brutality. This woman's predicament tonight proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt.  
  
But looking at her in that light, right that minute, he wanted to know what her voice sounded like and hear it speak her name so desperately it hurt like iron fetters crushing his heart.  
  
"Man, she don't look so good, huh, Leo?" Raphael's voice beside him startled the older turtle out of his private daydream so suddenly it took Leonardo a beat to reply.  
  
"Yeah, I think we should wake up Sensei..." he suggested, despite the lecture it might earn them. He was more worried about her getting hypothermia in those wet clothes then weathering another of his father's reprimands. "He'll know what to do."  
  
Raphael knew his brother was right, but he wasn't looking forward to coping the consequences from the old rat; the look he gave the blue-bandana wearing turtle as he got to the bottom of the stairs spoke it in volumes. Grumbling under his breath about 'not needing this shit' he began shedding his wet gear on the way to the end carriage where their master was no doubt deep in meditation.  
  
Leonardo wasted no time descending onto the platform with the unconscious woman in his arms, but rather then heading for the old beat-up couch parked infront of the television set, he kept going, heading into the train and towards his bedroom.  
  
Donatello watched him pass, confused as he stopped mid-action of piling cushions onto the sofa. Following him into the shelter, he stuck his head into the doorway and called down the hallway: "Hey, hey, Leo, where are you taking her??"  
  
"My room." Leonardo replied, not turning in the narrow space to look at his brother, instead, he shifted the woman's weight awkwardly in his arms, almost cracking her skull on the overhead cupboards, and managed to open the partition door with his foot, nudging it apart and slipping in sideways. He didn't notice the height Donatello's brows had shot up to at his back...  
  
Inside the small, but relatively clean compartment which had been converted into a quarters, Leonardo laid her out on his covers, pushing an old book about the Art of Iaido off onto the nightstand to make room. Sinking down to sit on the edge of the mattress beside her he stared helplessly at her body, trying to figure out what to do now. Should he cover her over with a blanket? But she was still in those wet clothes, so it wouldn't do much in the way of warmth. Examining her attire, he conceded that he could at least take that corduroy jacket, heavy with water, off and scooted up closer to do so. He turned as much as he could without pulling his legs up onto the bed, balanced himself with one arm braced beside her shoulder, and began to fumble with the zipper. His large fingers proved to be a frustrating obstacle until he finally gave a grunt of defeat and drew one of his katanas from his back, slipping the tip of the blade under the bottom hem and gently slicing the garment open up the side of the slide. Replacing his weapon back in its straps, he leant over her body, got one hand under her shoulder blades and ever so carefully, as if she might break, he eased her weight upright into a sitting position, resting her head against his shoulder while the other worked one arm out of the sleeve. He switched hands to tug it free on the other side and tossed the jacket onto the floor where it landed with a wet –SPLOTCH--.  
  
Easing the woman back onto the covers, he sat back, letting his eyes travel down the length of her and back up again, trying to find anything else he could remove without compromising the lady's dignity. A warm flush rushed straight to his head when he noticed the fly of her jeans was still open from her attacker's amorous attempt, showing the triangle of her mauve- colored cotton underwear. Leonardo stared at the delicate lace trim along the top of the panties, wondering what he was supposed to do about that. He couldn't just leave it open for all his brothers to gawk at when they came in. But it just didn't seem right to have his hands so close to such an intimate place on her body. It would be taking advantage of her, wouldn't it? I'll just do up the top button, he decided. No touching the zip, just pop the button in and no lower.  
  
Right, that sounded like a decent plan...  
  
Leonardo had faced an entire horde of Foot soldiers without even batting an eyelid in the past, but now, at the prospect of this task, he found his throat was dry and his hands trembled horribly as he reached out and took either side of the clothing between his thumb and forefinger, slowly pulling the taunt fabric together to hide away the stark evidence of her under garments...  
  
"Leonardo!"  
  
"Yahhh!"  
  
The ninja leapt up from the bed as if he had been struck and whirled to find Splinter, the aged and graying mutant rat whom was like father to them all, leaning on his gnarled walking stick and clutching a bundle of old cloth under one arm. His brothers Donatello and Raphael were crowded behind him, both staring with mouths agape and eyes disbelieving.  
  
They knew it couldn't be what it had looked like. Leonardo SO did not just have his hands down the blind chick's pants...  
  
"Master Splinter!" Leonardo greeted his sensei, stepping hastily away from the bed and bowing, wiping his clammy palms down the skin of his thighs in an awkward gesture. "I uh.... Her pants were... ummmm..."  
  
Splinter's dark gaze flickered to the human woman laid out on his son's bed, catching the sight of the denim garment unfastened and a sly little smile crept into the corners of his whiskered maw. Those benevolent eyes twinkled with a hidden amusement for the teenager's bad luck at being caught in such a compromising position, but he said nothing of it; instead he pulled the folded heap of fabric out from under his arm and unfurled it, holding it up for Leonardo to see. It was one of the rat's dusty and faded robes, plain and simple homespun cloth with less tears in it then the one he wore himself.  
  
"That will not be necessary, my son...." his dry and rasping voice, filled with seemingly endless calm whispered. "I want all of you leave us. I will see to her clothes."  
  
It took the three turtles a moment to obey as they exchanged looks over the unspoken fact that their sensei was going to be the only one to see her naked. Raphael looked annoyed, as if he had wanted to stay, and Donatello more then a little irked as he pictured what she might look like under those garments. Leonardo cleared his throat prominently, and forced them away from the door as he exited, muttering: "C'mon, guys, you heard Master Splinter... Let's give her some privacy, huh? C'mon get outta here!"  
  
He planted a hard shove to their shells which propelled both of them down the narrow corridor, and followed silently, the look on his face daring them to try and get past. Raphael cursed as his hip whacked the little fold- up kitchen table, kicking the piece of furniture askew furiously as he filed out after Donatello onto the platform living area.  
  
"God damn boy-scout!" he grumbled, falling onto the couch and grabbing the remote.  
  
----------  
  
And this is where the naughtiness comes into it, so far purely innocent 'boys will be boys' stuff of course, but still, it's a taste of my style in handling sexual scenes. Once again, if its not to your taste.... Oh well.  
  
Stay tuned! The chapters are coming thick and fast as I can write them, folks! -QA 


	3. Awakening

Author's comments: Welcome to chapter 3! [trumpets sound] Well, without further ado, let's get on with the fiction, shall we?  
  
Reinbeauchaser: Of course the turtles and their master will always be shining pillars of honour, virtue and all-around good guy-ness, but at the same time, they're still TEENAGE mutant ninja turtles. Splinter, naughty, you ask, well as my grand dad always says 'when I stop appreciating a fine young lass, bury me!'. But I think you may have added your own lecherous slant to the sensei's intentions. Better for a mature minded elder like himself to dress her then his somewhat female-deprived sons!  
  
Also, I've edited this chapter to shorten my run-on sentences at your advice, so I hope it goes smoother for the readers  
  
Disclaimer: I hereby solemnly swear I do not own any details of the TMNT franchise, including characters, events, places or names. Once again, the OC Madeline is the only factor of this little flight of fancy which belongs to me. Don't sue me, pretty please.  
  
Notes: Unlike -------- which appears to mark the end of a chapter, this ===== represents a change in POV.  
  
-- CHAPTER 3 --  
  
For the blind, it is hard to define the moment of awakening. Madeline always thought it to be that brief time when dreams fade and release their hold on the mind. Mundane awareness rekindled and all too suddenly, her senses began to bombard her with all the sounds and smells of her bedroom.  
  
Except that this time, instead of the familiar aroma of lavender potpourri on her bedside table, the young woman inhaled another smell. One which went unrecognised. It coiled in the back of her brain, just out of reach as she lay there and breathed deeply, trying to figure out just what it was...  
  
Sandalwood incense?  
  
This detail about her surroundings ignited a curiosity which made Madeline quickly forget about being afraid. She rolled over onto her side to brush a hand questing over the cotton bed sheets, reaching out to fumble for more clues. Her fingertips met cool, solid wood, and she began to investigates its surface. Making out the known shapes of a bedside lamp, an alarm clock, a book and a glass of what she could only assume was water.  
  
She also discovered that the mattress she was laying on wasn't on any frame, instead it sat straight on the cold floor, which lead her to believe the bedside 'table' was indeed a small box or some sort of tray turned on its end.  
  
Sitting up, propping her elbows underneath her brought a host of unexpected sensations to her nerves. Most of them painful. Madeline hissed through clenched teeth as her shoulders ached and her head throbbed. Ever resilient, the girl sat up and stretched her feet off the edge of the futon. She winced at first as the bitter chill of the uncarpeted floor bit into her bare feet. But she held fast, using the sharp clarity of the cold to clear her buzzing head.  
  
As she sat there, she noticed another thing: her legs were bare. Quickly running her hands over her body from the toes up, she discovered her wet jeans, t-shirt and jacket from the park were gone. They had been replaced with a dry, but not very warm, robe of some description which tied around her waist with a thick fabric belt and was just long enough to cover her naked dignity.  
  
A hot blush raged like wild fire across her cheeks at the thought of some one undressing her, laying her body bare to their eyes. She even stopped for a moment to think about it, trying to decide if she felt any different or there was any sort of soreness. She concentrated for a good five minutes before deciding she didn't –feel-- like she had been violated and that was good enough.  
  
"Hello?" she called quietly into the room, only now thinking of the fact she may not be alone. A moment passed, then another and no answer came.  
  
Awkwardly, groping all around her as she went, Madeline got to her hands and knees then, onto numb and tingling legs which protested the movement. She had to stand very still to let a bout of light-headedness pass. Picking a direction she shuffled forward. She hunched a little to keep one arm sweeping close to the floor for any tripping hazards and another waving around idiotically infront of her face so as not to walk into a wall.  
  
The first barrier she came to was a bookcase, small, only about waist height. Simple boards for top and bottom, sides and shelves, filled left to right with books of all sizes and thickness. As she ran her fingers down some of the spines, Madeline discovered most of them well read if the deep creases in the covers were any indication. Working her way left along a wall, her she felt cloth under her fingers. Upon straightening and feeling around, she determined it was some sort of banner or wall tapestry. Turning one corner of the room, she finally felt her fingers curl around the edge of a door frame and quickly sought out the handle.  
  
When pushing or pulling proved fruitless, Madeline tried leaning her weight against it and almost fell over as it slid sideways into the recess. Taking her slow, waving, shuffling, kata out into what could only be the hallway, she found it narrow and dead-ended. There was another non-sliding door a few steps to her right at the end.  
  
So going left, she felt her way down the aisle, finding it opened up in this direction. Bench seats and a kitchen table reminiscent of a caravan or camper van were set up. Was she on some sort of mobile vehicle? Did that mean who ever had her was a traveller? Oh god, she could be outside of New York by now or further, with no way of knowing how long she had been asleep!  
  
The sound of a television's white noise floated to her ears from up ahead, enticing her to keep going. An inspection of the wall on her left yielded another door. The air here felt colder, and she wondered it if led outside or into a larger room.  
  
Bracing both hands on either side of the doorway, she called out again, hoping to catch the attention of the TV viewer.  
  
"Hello? Is anyone there?"  
  
======  
  
Truth be told, Leonardo was a sucker for late night infomercials. For some reason, the droning, monotonous banter between the sale-persons set at a nice low volume level provided a mundane and soothing background lull. It easily tempted him into sleep. No matter how uncomfortable the trashed couch was.  
  
Man, he thought gingerly as he tossed and turned. Rolling to face the television screen he stretched to remove the kinks from his spine. I'm glad we didn't make her sleep on this thing! He wasn't too interested in the Ab- tronic equipment the grotesquely buff gym instructor was trying to convince the viewers they couldn't live without. Instead the bored teen eyed his twin katanas laying on the floor in the sheaths, piled on top of his pads, belt and bandana. Maybe he could polish the blades again?  
  
Suddenly, his senses pricked, honed from a lifetime as a ninjitsu disciple and he felt the presence of another close by. Tensing beneath the blanket in case he were about to engage in battle, Leonardo was startled to hear a soft, feminine voice call out from the direction of the old railway carriages: "Hello? Is anyone there?"  
  
It's HER! The realisation went off like fireworks in his mind and the young mutant leapt from the couch. Tossing the blanket to the floor Leo stared at the sight of her standing there in the doorway of the kitchen car.  
  
In the dimness, by the flickering bluish light of the television screen, she seemed eerily gothic. Her pale skin practically glowed by the only light source and her dark hair cascaded in thick dark masses over her shoulders. Master Splinter's robe was barely enough to cover her from his eyes, the collar gaped slightly to shown a deep swath of creamy skin from collarbone to the valley between her breasts. He hadn't gotten a good look at her standing before, so he wasn't sure if she was short or tall, but the bottom hem riding high on her thighs gave the illusion of her porcelain legs being long and lean.  
  
Leonardo gulped and immediately felt the same heat which had burnt his senses earlier that night discovering her open fly return to sear his cheeks. For once he was thankful for the dark green skin to hide the discolouration then quickly kicked himself for forgetting it didn't matter. She couldn't see it even if the blush was visible after all.  
  
Mustering his voice and pleased to find it sounded steadier then he felt, the turtle replied. "Hold on, miss, that's sort of a tricky step down..."  
  
----------  
  
Late at night, alone and barely dressed! [gasp] What will Leonardo do? A ninja has to retain his chivalry, doesn't he?  
  
More to come! Stay tuned! -QA 


	4. First Sight

Author's comments: Here we are back for chapter 4, folks and its great to have you with me! I tried to take some of Reinbeauchaser's advice and read the tutorials but unfortunately FF.Net's server chucks a wobbly every time I try. And continues to do so no matter how many times I refresh! Argh!  
  
But rest assured I am endeavouring to become a better writer regardless by taking any and all tips from my faithful two reviewers. I want readers to be able, while looking back on this piece, to witness my growth as an author. Watch this space!  
  
prepare4trouble: Seems a few people like the way Leo was all embarrassed in chapter 2! I hope I managed to recreate some of that naivety in relation to his girl skills in this one too. Thanks for the review and I'll keep writing them if you keep reading them!  
  
Disclaimer: You know the deal by now—I don't own TMNT no matter how much I'd like to. Only Madeline the OC belongs to me. No suing.  
  
-- CHAPTER 4 --  
  
"Hold on, miss, that's sort of a tricky step down..."  
  
Madeline froze, taking his advice. The voice was undoubtly male —it possessed a pleasant baritone which dispelled all possibility of femininity. She had only a moment to try and judge the speaker by that all too brief comment however. In the next heartbeat the young woman felt a tentative touch slowly close around her left wrist where it was braced to the door frame, followed by another at her waist. The strength in his grip could be felt just by that simple contact, evoking a shiver up her spine.  
  
With the stranger's assistance, she stepped down onto icy concrete and made a sound of protest. No sooner she had then the same voice asked: "Do you want me to carry you to the couch?" Palpable concern sounded sincere in his tone. That did not stop her cheeks heating at the thought of being carried in this man's arms wearing what she almost was.  
  
"No, thankyou..." Madeline declined, trying to be polite. "Just lead me there, please."  
  
============  
  
Leonardo wondered if his hands were shaking or if it was just his imagination. The slender wrist engulfed in his hold certainly was. But he guessed this woman had a right to be scared. After all, she couldn't even see the stranger whom she put her trust in her right now. But then again ... maybe that was a good thing.  
  
Carefully negotiating her onto the threadbare rug which marked the 'lounge room' area of the platform in a distinct square, the turtle nudged away his gear and weapons with one foot to remove a tripping hazard for her. "Okay, you can sit down now..." he told her quietly, slowly lowering himself down onto the cushions with her. Once the guest on his makeshift bed was seated he dragged the blanket from the floor thrown there in his shock and draped it around her shoulders. "Here, you've gotta be cold in just that."  
  
Her cheeks darkened as she reached up and pulled the corners of the covering tight around her body like a cocoon. Whether it was because she was embarrassed, frightened or both and he couldn't pluck the right thing to say from his swirling thoughts a silenced settled. The television dialogue murmuring inanely did little to alleviate the weight lack of conversation drew down on them. The longer it stretched out, the more the ninja felt like twitching, clearing his throat, or simply running into the sewers. He didn't do any of those things, however, because finally, she broke the ice for him.  
  
"What are you watching?" she wanted to know. Her vacant eyes stared straight at the TV screen, but at the same time, through it and out the other side.  
  
"Uh, just infomercials..." Leo piped up, shifting to put more distance between them. The worn springs of the sofa creaked to give him away and he stopped.  
  
"Ah, I see..."  
  
More silence.  
  
Why did he feel like that simple exchange had meant something else entirely? As if they both were saying one thing and meaning another?  
  
Deliberately he turned his head to look at her profile huddled into the blanket inches from him. The light of the screen brought out the ugly blues and magentas of the large bruise gracing her entire cheek. It looked like an ugly stain on her alabaster pallor, testimony to the evils in the world. Just remembering the sight of her being thrown to the ground in that one blow made the warrior's fists clench and unclench with the urge to hit the man again. If only he could reach over and stroke the mark away, smooth the creases in her brow and bring a smile to those lips. He really wanted to see them smile... Oh wow, where had –that-- come from?  
  
Leo moved the rest of the way over to the furthest end of the seater, almost perching on the arm rest. Who cared if the springs squeaked?  
  
"So.... What's your name?..." he casually tried to ask for the one thing he had been dying to know all night.  
  
"Madeline Breckin. You can call me 'Maddy', if you like."  
  
"Maddy..." He rolled it around on the tip of his tongue and found it tasted good. "It's nice..."  
  
"What's yours?"  
  
"......... Leonardo.... Uh, 'Leo's' easier."  
  
"I like it." she returned the compliment. "It's very poetic."  
  
Leo caught himself before he laughed out loud and did something stupid like say 'why, thank you'. Not very cool infront of a woman. Not very manly. Instead he settled for: "thanks" and left it at that.  
  
Some of the tension trickled away like water leaking out of a glass, leaving the air between them clearer and more tolerable. Maybe offering their nicknames had graduated them to the next level up from strangers or perhaps it was just the fact they now had something to call the other. Whatever it was, Leonardo was grateful for the small mercy.  
  
"Leo?" He suddenly could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage like banging on a door to be let out. Just noticing the way his name sounded coming from her lips --softer, gentler and more needing then he had ever heard it spoken before –made his pulse speed up.  
  
"Yeah, .... Maddy?" it took more effort to say one word then it had for him to go up against Rahzar.  
  
"Exactly where am I?" she asked.  
  
Out of all his brothers, the eldest was unanimously the poster-boy for honesty and integrity, but right that moment, he stopped, paused, and actually hesitated giving her an answer. He didn't want to tell her they lived in a sewer or some beat-up old subway train. He didn't want to because Leo knew that would inevitably lead to other questions; why did they live down here and not up on the surface with the rest of the world? What did they have to hide?  
  
For once, for just this moment, he had something he never had before. Normality. This morning Leonardo wouldn't have thought he cared about it at all. He didn't want or need human acceptance, he was just happy with his family, fighting the good fight. But now he was sitting next to a young, attractive human woman who thought his name sounded poetic and that felt better then he had ever thought it would. Suddenly, he didn't want to do or say anything to jeopardize that. But at the same time, he couldn't lie to her.  
  
Instead, the young mutant told himself he would just choose his words carefully...  
  
"You're in New York, at my home." Leo told her, mentally checking himself for discrepancies. She was in New York, even if she was currently UNDER it, and though it may not have been much, the lair was still 'home'. So far so good.  
  
"Oh..." Madeline sounded a little surprised, like maybe she thought she was somewhere else. "Whereabouts in the city do you live?"  
  
"Uh... A few blocks from the train station on Main street. You know where that is?" Again, the lair WAS a few blocks away from the station, so it wasn't a lie.  
  
"Hmm, yes I know the train station..." Maddy replied, sitting there with her brow wrinkled in deep thought. Obviously she was trying to get her bearings from the landmark by whatever means a blind person did. Leo didn't know how long she had lived in the city or how well she knew the area. Rather not taking the chance she might begin pressing him for details, he decided to quickly change the subject.  
  
"So, um, how're you feeling? Better?" What a stupid question, he berated himself. She was almost RAPED.  
  
The look which quickly fell over her haunted face like a shadow made him feel like an idiot. Nice going, you jerk, he thought. He sat still, ready for the worse: was she going to start crying?  
  
Her eyes sparkled with the sheen of unshed tears, making their faded blue shine brightly by the TV's glow. But she did not cry. Leonardo wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. That awful silence got its foot back in the door between them and barged in to make the disquiet so thick he was sure he couldn't cut it with any sword ever made.  
  
"Uhhh, that was a stupid question..." he ventured at last, doing his best to apologize when she still hadn't uttered a word after what felt like an hour's silence. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't think about what I was—"  
  
"It's alright." Madeline told him. Her voice had become so quiet he barely heard it. Just that in itself told him it wasn't. "Could you take me back to the room? I don't feel too good..."  
  
And that was all his fault, Leo slung the blame on his shoulders. In the space of one sentence she had clamed up on him and all of a sudden they were strangers again. The fleeting connection was gone.  
  
"Sure..." the turtle said, biting back the urge to sigh as he stood and reached down to wrap his hand around her shoulder, pulling her up from the couch. He was careful not to hold her hand as he steered her back to his room—the last thing he wanted right now was for her to feel his thick, three-fingered hold and freak out.  
  
He'd done enough damage for tonight.  
  
Sitting her down on his bed, he pulled the blankets up over her body, but didn't tuck them in, letting her do that for herself. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?" he told her, closing the door behind him.  
  
Outside in the hall, he leant his forehead against the wall and let it thud there a few times with resounding –BANG—'s. "Stupid, stupid, stupid..." he muttered.  
  
The voice of his younger brother behind him, made Leonardo stop the self- punishment and turn to look at the sibling. Michaelangelo stood in the door way of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and still half-asleep.  
  
"Dude, what's all the noise?" he mumbled.  
  
"Nothing, Mikey. Go back to bed." the older dismissed him.  
  
Even in his current state of semi-catatonia, the orange-affiliated ninja wasn't stupid. The suspicious look he gave his big brother was enough to confirm that Mike knew something was up. But rather then get into it now in the wee hours of the morning, standing in the freezing hallway, he made the smart decision and let it lay. Murmuring something that sounded like a 'goodnight', he shut the door behind him and left Leonardo standing there staring at the wood panel in silence.  
  
A minute, and then another passed before Leonardo let out a sigh and trudged back out of the train, grabbing his stuff as he passed the couch. He didn't stop to look at the blanket rumpled on one side of it, probably still warm from her body. Instead he roughly yanked a knot into his bandana, lashing it securely on his head, and paced towards the part of the station which had been converted into a make-shift dojo. He needed to practice his katas, meditate or just chop up the wooden dummy. Anything to get rid of frustration boiling in his heart for his own insensitive slip of the tongue.  
  
---------------  
  
Poor Leo! He's not very good with girls, is he? Maybe that will change! Ignoring the fact this is a Leonardo romance fic and you're probably just reading this for the love scenes, let's just pretend you don't know the answer to that and find out in the next chapter! -QA 


	5. Nice Going, Mikey!

Author's comments: Oh no! Lock the women and children inside! Grab your pitchforks! No it's not Shrek! But it is equally green! It's... [drum roll] ... chapter 5!  
  
Reinbeauchaser: What would I do without you? Probably send my readers blue in the face trying to get out my loooooong sentences in a single breath! I've once again taken your advice on board and made subsequent changes to the previous chapter. Oh, and that part about Leo taking her by the wrist – I added a little more detail in there. Hope it fills in some of those blanks.  
  
As for my other two reviewers (JeFfYzGaL2 and prepare4trouble) I'm delighted you like how it's coming on so far. And please, like Reinbeau, don't be afraid to tell me if something doesn't seem quite right.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm just going to keep cutting and pasting the paragraph from the first chapter here, because I am running out of different ways to word the same legality. So here you go: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. My only claim to this is my OC 'Madeline'. (See comment above Disclaimer in chapter 1 for why not to sue me, you bullies! Freedom of speech! The fans must be heard! Rah rah rah!)  
  
-- CHAPTER 5 --  
  
After returning to the room she had woken up in, Madeline didn't feel much like sleeping. She had laid there under the blankets of various sizes and textures and stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to distract her thoughts by wondering what colour it was. Short of asking Leonardo, her host, she really had no other way of finding out. And she didn't feel like going back out there in the wake of that brief, uncomfortable and disastrous introduction. So that train of thought quickly caved in and she was left with no weapon to fend off the still too vivid memories of the attack.  
  
She must have replayed it more then a dozen times in various parts—some from the moment she stepped out of her apartment right up to that slap which had sent her reeling. With these disturbing snippets running around in her head she finally fell into a fitful sleep hours later. She had dreams, not all of them about different scenarios of the trauma as would have been only fitting for some melodramatic soap opera. In reality, she didn't really remember dreaming about the would-be rapist at all. But just under the surface of her subconscious the dread and disgust of the ordeal was always in the backdrop, making confusing appearances at the strangest times and confusing her.  
  
As a result, when she was gently shaken awake sometime later by a big, firm hand on her shoulder, Madeline didn't feel very rested at all.  
  
"Hey, babe... Hey, hey, wake up... Helllllooooo?"  
  
It was a voice she didn't know --younger, a little higher pitched then Leo's and filled with a mischievousness the other had not possessed last night.  
  
Startled by the fact a stranger was waking her up, the woman stiffened, jerked her shoulder out from under the touch and sat up quickly with a gasp.  
  
"Whooooa, chill out!" the male yelped, the sound of feet doing a quick backward shuffle from the bed accompanying it. "Hey, you know, even though your hair looks like a freakin' afro.... that 'come hither in the mornin' thing is really workin' for you!"  
  
Madeline didn't know what to do or say to that. She kept her knees clamped tightly together, only just remembering she could be giving this man a lewd view and slid back against the wall on the other side of the mattress.  
  
"Um, excuse me... but... who are you?"  
  
A silence which lasted long enough for her to tell the other was either confused or offended stretched out.  
  
"Who am I? Who am I?! What? Didn't Leo tell you about me?!"  
  
Madeline actually thought for a moment, trying to clear the cobwebs of sleep which still hung in her memory. She didn't remember Leo saying much about himself or anyone else during their short dialogue on the couch last night. Certainly not anything about an apparently cheeky flat mate. Or, here was a thought, boyfriend? Was Leonardo gay?!  
  
"I'm sorry... but, no."  
  
An overly dramatic gasp sounded as the speaker sucked in a deep lungful of air. "Dude! That is so lame! Wait 'til I get my fucking hands on him!... Opps, sorry, 'scuse the naughty word there." She heard a sound like the clinking of a tea cup against a saucer and something was set down on the floor beside the futon with a faint rattle. "Well, the name's Michaelangelo, baby! The best lookin', most handsomest omelet maker in all of New York city! And I made you breakfast!"  
  
Madeline couldn't help but laugh at that, but the humour was quickly sapped out of it when the word 'funny' became 'flamboyant' and she was back to wondering if this was Leonardo's lover. He was certainly spunky enough to be the female of such a relationship. Her stricken look must have showed, because Michaelangelo quickly added: "Babe, I'm Leo's little brother!"  
  
"Oh, thank goodness..." she chuckled, letting out the breath she had been holding. Immediately the tension drained from her posture and she almost collapsed back onto the bed.  
  
"Damn, who the hell did you THINK I was?" Michael laughed –he had an infectious chortle to match the undertone in his voice.  
  
Artfully skirting around that question, Madeline lowered herself back down onto her stomach ontop of the covers and reached out to finger the contents of the tray. She made out the sponge-like texture of what smelt like a cheesy egg pancake, a tall cool glass frosted with condensation and a quaint little vase chipped on one side holding a flower which felt something like a dandy-lion.  
  
"Oh, how sweet..." she mused, pulling the flower carefully from the holder and bringing it to her nose. By its juniper scent she decided it was a common weed bloom, but with no less thought put into its inclusion.  
  
"The flower was Donnie's idea."  
  
"'Donnie'?"  
  
"What, Leo didn't tell you about ANY of us?!" Again Mike exaggerated a hurt and insulted vocal pout.  
  
"I'm afraid our conversation was rather..... stunted." Madeline admitted, feeling her face fall and change as she remembered how sorry he had sounded. She would have to find him after finishing Michaelangelo's thoughtful breakfast and assure him.  
  
"Huhn, really? I figured you two must've really hit it off or somethin' with the way Leo was actin' all weird out in the hall. Oh, hey!" the younger sibling gave a bark of laughter and blurted out: "I never asked you what your name was!"  
  
"Leonardo didn't give it to you?" Madeline looked worried.  
  
"Nope. Haven't seen him all morning! He's probably still in the dojo working on his moves or something."  
  
Dojo? The unique word stuck out in his sentence like a neon sign, conjuring up images of karate masters in white pajamas flipping, kicking and punching around some big long room with wall to wall bamboo mats. Did Leonardo, Michaelangelo and this 'Donnie' teach some sort of self-defense classes?  
  
Pushing the detail aside and storing it away in her memory for later consideration, Madeline decided to take care of business between her and Michael first. "Well, then, allow me to introduce myself." She began, reaching over and offering her hand to thin air with a smile. "My name is Madeline. Madeline Breckin. But like I told your brother, you can call me Maddy instead."  
  
"Cool. 'Maddy', huh? Sounds French or something..." Mikey quipped, leaning down and slotting his hand to fit nice and snug around hers. The size of his hand completely dwarfed hers, and just like his brother, he had a roughened feel to his touch. As a second slipped over the top of her own to envelop it completely between his, the realization struck her: it wasn't dry or peeling skin which gave his hands their feel, but more a pebbled texture. And he only had three fingers, on both hands!  
  
The gasp whispered from her throat without Madeline really even hearing it, stilling Mike's handshake and making him stop as if he had frozen in place at the sound.  
  
"What? What's wrong?" he asked.  
  
Madeline wasn't sure if she could free the hand trapped between his, so instead she reached out with the other, placing it just above his wrist and caressing the solid, firm muscle there critically. Her subject didn't shift or try to pull away as she worked her way up his arm, apparently confused as to just what it was she was doing. Rising up onto her knees, she leant in and stroked her fingertips over the contours of a toned, bare shoulder, feeling that his skin was the same cool leather all over. Up along the neck, thick and masculine with a prominent Adam's Apple.  
  
And then, her mouth fell open.  
  
Michaelangelo's jawline was deformed: twice as wide as a normal human beings, he had an odd chin and lips which barely seemed discernable from the rest of the mouth set further back under a huge, bulbous snout.  
  
He wasn't human!  
  
===============  
  
"Aiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!"  
  
Leonardo almost dropped the katana from his nerveless grip as the cries echoed through the subway tunnels. The high-pitched scream resounding with terror was distinctly feminine!  
  
His first thought as dread seized his guts and knotted them up was Madeline. A woman didn't scream like that unless she was terrified. A million scenarios flew through his head as the ninja readjusted his grip on the sword with a flick of the wrist and slammed the weapon back into its sheath. Everything from her attacker somehow following them back here to stubbing her toe on a piece of furniture played themselves out in his brain as he took off running for the main platform.  
  
Without even thinking about it, he found himself calling out: "Hold on, Maddy! I'm coming!"  
  
-----------------  
  
Oh no! Will Leonardo get there in time to save our damsel in distress from the big bad 'monster'? What 'monster', you ask? Well read the next chapter to find out! -QA 


	6. Inevitable Discovery

Author's comment: I have three new reviewers! Yay me! Oh and in taking Reinbeauchaser's advice and reading my finished works aloud to beta-read them before uploading, I got busted by my parents last night reading out one of Mikey's lines in a very thick New Yorker accent (by the way for those of you who didn't pick it by small spelling variations, I'm an Australian). I think they're going to commit me next week to a lovely place call 'Clear Waters' [laughs]  
  
Lisa15: Hey there, Lisa and thanks for the review! This feedback-addicted poor writer is hungry for all the praise she can get. No seriously, I have a fellow Leonardo fan! C'mere! [bear hugs] I look forward to your opinions as the story takes shape! Oh and don't sweat it about the graphic love scenes. Personally, I've always found a really lemon scene somehow cheapens the whole story. (No offence to writers who include such scenes in their fiction). Besides, I'm not even sure how something like that would work between a human and a mutant turtle! Rest assured this story will not exceed NC-17 in that regard, and remain on because I will handle it with a measure of decorum and class.  
  
Lindsay: She loves my work! I have a fan! Woohooo! achem Excited? Who me? Nyah. Anyway, here is that update and I'll try and keep them coming through a perpetual writer's block.  
  
Buslady of SoCal: I'm busting at the seams to finally hear from you. I have to confess, it was your JeanXRaphael fiction which inspired me to consider TMNT as a category to write for. Before that I was strictly an anime/comic book fiction author. So I figure I've got to thank you in this chapter for motivating me to make the story in the first place! I'll see about that Donnie fiction later down the track, huh?  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. My only claim to this is my OC 'Madeline'. (See comment above Disclaimer in chapter 1 for why not to sue me)  
  
-- CHAPTER 6 --  
  
"Hold on, Maddy! I'm coming!"  
  
Leonardo burst from the tunnels onto the main platform short of breath. His eyes whipped around the deserted living area-- the TV was still on, displaying a morning talkshow. A cup of black coffee in Raphael's favorite American flag mug was still steaming on the card table. Donnie's work desk was buried beneath what looked like the components of an old transistor spread everywhere and a screwdriver still spun on its axis at its edge as if it had been dropped in haste.  
  
His stomach plunged to the soles of his big green feet. "Mikey? Raph?! Donnie?!! Master Splinter?!!!" No one answered his frantic summons. The lair was so horribly quiet, he could hear the ringing of silence in his ears. "Where IS everybody??!"  
  
As if answering the turtle's question, another high-pitched scream of fright rang out, bouncing off the high ceilings of the subway dome shrilly. Leo's head snapped towards the subway carriages, pinpointing the source at last, and he wasted no time at all vaulting over the back of the couch to get there.  
  
"Hold on, guys! I'm coming!" he shouted as he barged into the narrow passageway so heavily the entire train rocked.  
  
"Leo! Get your ass down here and –SHIT, MIKEY, LOOK OUT!" Raph's voice rose to the familiar bellowing battle cry he had heard many times carry across a fight.  
  
Shoving anything which got in his way, tables, cushions, old cereal boxes, everything. Leonardo sprinted down the narrow corridor and slammed a hard right into the doorway of his bedroom. He had to dig his heels in and throw his weight back into his shell to stop plowing into the back of Splinter, who kept his distance on the threshold.  
  
Over the top of the rat's furred and graying head, the eldest ninja took in the warzone which used to be his bedroom. And when dark eyes fell upon the center of the chaos, his jaw swung open....  
  
Madeline stood, clutching a bloodied butter knife in a white-knuckled grip, backed into the furthest part of his bed. She pressed her back into the corner of the wall, shoulders pulled tightly in against her neck and pose defensive as if she were trying to slip into a crack somewhere.  
  
His youngest brother was sitting on his backside a pace and a half away from the mattress, clutching a bloodied forearm. The dark ichor ran in thin rivulets between his fingers, but the wound wasn't gushing, not yet. That assured Leonardo at least the injury couldn't be terribly deep.  
  
Raphael was right behind the other, sai's drawn and leering at the blind woman like she was a Foot Ninja. He looked about ready to rend, tear, shred and dissect if it weren't for that blunt little utensil in her hand. But the look in his eye rang alarm bells in the eldest's brain-- he knew by that look alone, if he didn't get between Madeline and his hot-headed sibling, there was going to be more blood spilt.  
  
Donatello, still wearing a pair of his magnifying goggles with the multiple lenses pushed up onto his forehead, stayed by Splinter's side, just a step into the room. He obviously hadn't had his bo staff handy when the ruckus broke out; instead he wielded a big thick book out of his shelves. His eyebrows were up and he was looking at the human as if he didn't know whether to bash her over the head or don a Hazmat suit!  
  
"What in the shell is going on here?!!!" one very confused mutant turtle demanded.  
  
At the sound of the question, all heads turned to stare at Leonardo standing in the hall. Even Madeline's, which gravitated to the familiar voice, but lost none of the horror painted on her face.  
  
Mikey let loose another girlish shriek and lifted his arm to show him from the floor. Well that solved the mystery of who had been screaming like a schoolgirl. "She cut me!" he wailed. "She's crazy, Leo, save me, man!"  
  
"Leonardo?!" the girl cried, the raw tone of fear in that single word silently begging with him to save her.  
  
Splinter gave his student a black look. "It appears, my son, you had failed to explain important details about us to the new guest..."  
  
Leonardo withheld a cringe. He was going to have to explain himself to the sensei later. Later being as soon as this mayhem was resolved before anyone else got worse then a little nick on the arm. Seeing his son glance down at the floor, looking contrite, the rat 'hmph'ed to himself and twitched his whiskers. The twisted cane tapped loudly on the floor and his long, brittle claws scraped as Splinter shuffled into the bedroom to clean up the mess.  
  
It was a blow to Leonardo's pride.  
  
"That is enough, young lady!" the martial arts master snapped firmly. He undercut his own words by lifting his walking stick and banging the end once and once only between his feet. The sound was like a heavy gong striking silence into the tiny room. "My sons saved your life... And this is how you repay them?"  
  
Through her panic, Madeline had enough shame to look guilt-stricken. "But, Micahelangelo... He's not human!" she replied, pointing in the general direction of where Mikey sat. Raphael sneered and opened his mouth, self- conscience pricked by the woman's remark, to retort some angry backlash. But a look from Splinter silenced the red-bandana wearer.  
  
"Neither are we all, my child. We may seem strange and frightening to you now, but I can assure you no one here means you any ill will." The rat's dark, beady eyes gave Raphael a sidelong glance during his pause like a silent cue to put the sais away. "Now, if you care to put that down and come with me..." Splinter used the same tone of voice someone would with a jumper on the ledge of a high-rise building. Without fear, he took a step onto the mattress, making the springs groan faintly with his weight. The sound alerted the woman to his close proximity and she flinched before the rat's long-fingered, bony hand reached out and plucked the butter knife from her now nerveless grip. The cutlery clattered to the floor as the sensei threw it away with a quiet grunt after inspecting the blood upon its edge.  
  
"Come now..." the mutant rat instructed, gently reaching in and closing clawed fingers around a trembling wrist. Madeline blinked and made a quiet whimpering sound as she stared sightlessly over his head. The sound nearly broke Leonardo's heart, because now, he knew, all hope of normality with the girl was gone.  
  
Gently, patiently, Master Splinter led the girl off the mattress and out of the room a step at a time. She followed numbly, shaking all over with tremors of shock and her feet seemed clumsy, as if her knees were weak too.  
  
As the pair pasted him out into the hallway, Splinter regarded Leonardo one last time with a disappointed glance. The understanding in that one look was enough. The old rat knew ultimately why this had happened: his sons were growing up and wrestling with the inner demons of shame. But of them all, Leonardo was the last sibling he had expected to resort to denial...  
  
In their wake, the human and the rat left three very confused turtles staring at each other, and one who had bored his gaze into the floor sullenly.  
  
--------------------------  
  
Oh! Poor Mikey needs a doctor now! Someone get the antiseptic and band- aids! - QA 


	7. Explanations

Author's comments: Ohmigosh! So many reviews! How am I going to name everyone in this little blurb? Well, you all seemed to love chapters 5 or 6 or both! Heh, I must be doing something right! Woohoo! And even the ever- eagled eye Reinbeauchaser could not fault it! I have peaked! [does happy dance] Oh dear, does anyone have a straw to let some of this hot air out of my head now? Prepare4trouble, you mentioned the chapters are too short? Well as I've been writing I kind of noticed that myself. The first was simply short in itself and to keep them all about the same I stayed within the 4 to 4 and a half page limit per chapter. Though I might be able to sneak a page in at a time until I have you all reading 12 page long chapters! Mwahaha! Then my plan for world domination shall be complete!  
  
achem  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. My only claim to this is my OC 'Madeline'. (See comment above Disclaimer in chapter 1 for why not to sue me)  
  
-- CHAPTER 7 --  
  
Bless the lord for hot cocoa. It was creamy, smooth and sweet, driving away the aftershocks of her nasty fright. Her hands still trembled when she took them away from their fettered grip wrapped tightly around the mug. But no one had said anything of it, so Madeline assumed it may have simply still been in her head.  
  
Another of Leo's brothers, this one called 'Raphael', had offered her coffee instead of cocoa. But she had politely explained that she didn't drink the high caffine substance, nor alcohol. 'Raph' as he had told her to call him, had made some disgusted noise and muttered something about 'that being no ----ing fun'. To which a loud SMACK!, followed by a grunt had sounded, when Leonardo told him to watch his manners.  
  
Someone had brought a blanket from the bed in what she now knew to be Leonardo's room, and draped it around her shoulders. She felt horribly guilty for kicking him out of his domain, but when she had tried to apologize, Leo would hear none of it.  
  
As trivial things were put out of the way, the old wizened voice of Master Splinter, their somewhat surrogate father and mentor, had called about more important discussions. Patiently, and clearly, the old rat --she still found it quite unbelievable she was sitting there listening to a rat talk-- had explained just how they all came to be. Leonardo's other brother, the aforementioned 'Donnie' or Donatello as he properly introduced himself, had interjected when the subject of the mysterious ooze and TGRI company came up. Splinter let him, and it soon became apparent Donatello was a very intelligent mutant; his vocabulary contained words Madeline had never even considered to be listed in the dictionary.  
  
Next, Michaelangelo, who didn't seem to hold a grudge at all once his arm had been bandaged up, added in extreme abstract terms, just what it was they did night after night in the shadows of New York city. Helping the helpless, rescuing 'hot babes' and giving the bad guys a good kick in the--  
  
"You get the idea?" Leonardo quickly cut his younger sibling off in an attempt to prevent more cussing in the lady's presence.  
  
"I think so...." Madeline murmured quietly. She clenched and unclenched her hands cupped tightly against the cooling ceramic of the mug and thought a moment to find the right word. "You're ....turtle/human hybrid vigilantes trained in the use of martial arts ....and you have a fetish for pizza..."  
  
She couldn't believe she had just said that, and let out a shaky exhale.  
  
"Yeah, uh, except you forgot 'handsome'..." Mikey snickered.  
  
That made her smile, despite the situation. "Oh, I'm very sorry... HANDSOME turtle/human hybrid vigilantes trained in the use of martial arts who have a fetish for pizza..."  
  
The tension in the air cleared significantly with her light humour. Someone gave a dry chuckle, she thought it was Splinter, but couldn't be certain.  
  
"Yeah!" the youngest of the brothers whooped, "Y'hear THAT, huh?! She thinks I'm HANDSOME! --- ow..."  
  
His short sound of pain, obviously caused by the drastic movements she could hear him thrashing around, was enough to return Madeline's guilt and make her wince. "Michael... I'm very sorry... about your arm... "she apologized for the second time.  
  
"Nyah, don't sweat it!" he snorted. "It didn't hurt."  
  
"You're full of it." Raph's gruff voice retorted from somewhere behind her. "You were crying like a little bitch... Heh heh."  
  
"Say it again, pecker-head!" Mikey yelped, the scraping sound of a chair being pushed back quickly punctuating his threat.  
  
"Guys!" Leo tried in vain to stop the impending fight. "Knock it off! We've got company..."  
  
To which Raphael gave no notice and continued to torment his younger brother by making typical crying baby sounds such as 'waaaahhh' and 'boo hoo'.  
  
"You're dead!" came the shriek before she felt something rush by her shoulder, followed by a hard THUMP like someone rolling off a couch. The various sounds of grunting and fists on flesh ensued as Raphael and Michaelangelo obviously tussled. Donatello left the table, his voice growing fainter as he drew closer to the pair in an effort to break them up.  
  
"Come on, you two..."  
  
"Hmph, kids...." was all Master Splinter grumbled as he slowly got up, his feet scraping over the concrete floor as the chair was pushed back. The retreating tap...tap...tap of his walking stick told her the old rat was leaving. She sat there, wondering how he could just turn his back on the fight like that; wasn't he supposed to be their father figure?  
  
"Wait, where is he going?" Madeline asked, not sure there was anyone left at the table to hear her question. "What if they hurt each other?"  
  
"Sensei prefers to let us work out our own differences." came Leonardo's soothing baritone just above her head-- sometime during the fuss he had gotten up and placed himself directly behind her chair as if ready to pull it out for her when she got up. The eldest of the unique brotherhood was nothing less then a gentleman far more mature then his adolescent age. Already, the young woman was beginning to find it a nice quality.  
  
"Well I suppose you're all old enough to take responsibility for your own actions..." Madeline mused aloud, craning her head back to lift her face upward. Her head bumped against the back of something hard, but warm, which she assumed was Leo's chest. It was firmer then muscle could ever be, like armour, and now that she had been informed of what they were, the fact made her more curious then afraid to discover exactly what the anatomy of a bipedal turtle was like.  
  
Carefully, timidly, she turned her head to the side to press her cheek against him. Leonardo didn't seem to move, nor back away, so she took it to mean he didn't mind. Rubbing the sensitive skin of her face against the smooth, enamel-like surface, she felt the bumps and ridges to it just like the plastron of a normal turtle. But it wasn't cool and slimy as she thought it might be, instead it was dry and warm as her own flesh; she was very surprised to find she could hear the drumbeat of his heart through the shell. It was also beating rapidly.  
  
A pair of large hands settled on her shoulders, engulfing the entire curve in their touch from the deltoid to the collar-bone. Gently they squeezed, and just the sensation where her body was the most tense made her legs relax bonelessly.  
  
==============  
  
Leonardo felt her body slump with just a simple squeeze to the shoulders, and at first he worried perhaps he might had hurt her: pinched a nerve or something? After all, his hands had been trained to automatically seek out points on an opponents body to immobilize them almost on muscle memory reflex.  
  
But when he leant forward a little to peek at her expression, her lips were turned up at the corners in a small, content smile, and her chest rose and fell with deep, calm breaths. She seemed to be enjoying it. He had never given a girl a massage before-- sure he worked the kinks out of his sore muscles every day after training-- but never before had he actually experienced soft, supple flesh under his hands or had the pleasure of feeling her lean her head back just below his chest like that.  
  
There was something intimate enough about it all to make him nervous about trying it infront of everyone. Not matter how much he wanted to let his hands roam and discover what she felt like in other places.  
  
"Yeah, we've got to handle our own problems..." he replied finally, slipping his hands away and taking a large step back from her chair. She shifted in her seat a little to turn part way, her unfocused gaze flitting around as if searching for the sound of his voice.  
  
A look of disappointment flashed across her pale face when she realized he wasn't going to continue, which was enough to make him feel guilty.  
  
Turning away, hiding her from his view, he found all three of his brothers now engaged in the Rumble Royale taking place infront of the television: not one of them had noticed the moment which had passed between the two.  
  
Leonardo at least, found that to be a small blessing as he left her sitting at the table to go break it up.  
  
--------------------------------  
  
Update ahoy! I hope I haven't let anyone down with that chapter. Thought it might be about time to develop something between the two since this IS a romance fiction after all! And look! It's only taken me 6 chapters of procrastinating to do it in! 


	8. Curiousity

Author's comments: Oh boy, you would not believe how hectic I have been lately. I managed to get myself a job, a blessing in some ways but I find busy days of 9-5 leave me feeling less and less like sitting down and thinking up chapters. Sad though, because that means the updates didn't come as thick or as fast. I received so much positive encouragements and pleas to update ASAP, and I'm sorry to the new reviewers I've picked up if it seemed that the story just died when you found it. I realize I haven't updated in maybe over six or nine months and that's just WRONG. Thank you for the support and I will try to set aside a few hours a night to work on this story now to get it finished.

Disclaimer: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. My only claim to this is my OC 'Madeline'. (See comment above Disclaimer in chapter 1 for why not to sue me)

CHAPTER 8 --

Since the almost-massage yesterday morning, Leonardo had kept his distance from her, and Madeline was fretting as to why. Up until that point, he had seemed to take it as his duty to be her exclusive guide, pulling the chair out for her when she had sat down, hovering close by. Come dinner time, it had been Michaelangelo whom had helped her into her seat, his older brother strangely quiet.

Perhaps she had overstepped a barrier of personal space with him? They were barely strangers, and when she thought about it, the gesture had been….. border-line intimate.

Guilted and worrying for offending the brother whom had been becoming a fast friend, Madeline decided directly after breakfast she would find Leo and apologize.

The question was, where had he gone?

Seeking out the noise of the television in the central hub of the platform-- it sounded like someone was watching Scooby Doo cartoons-- the blind woman came up behind the couch. Placing her hand on the back of the sofa, she asked quietly to the viewer: "Excuse me?"

The voice of the youngest turtle sounded happy to see her. "Hey, babe!" he greeted with soft whumps as he patted the cushions undercutting his words. "Wanna watch an all weekend Scooby marathon? The gang is just about to bust the bogus Devil Bear!"

Madeline could not help but smile. She affectionately shifted her grip on the makeshift cane Mikey had fashioned as she thought to herself he could be the perfect little brother she never had. The cane was just a broom handle cut to the right length, with some cloth wrapped around one end for a grip and a ping pong ball shoved on the other. It was heavier then she was used to, but worked almost as well.

"No, thank you, Michael," she girl declined, imagining the disappointed expression on his face as she said it. "Maybe later? I was just looking for Leo…"

"Oh, he's in the dojo, workin' out. Like five hours a day isn't enough, you know?"

Madeline remembered the location of the training facility from the 'grand tour' Donatello and Raphael had treated her to before bed the night before. It was vaguely to her left, up one small raise and down a concrete ledge and then right into a narrow brick passageway. A few meters along and the corridor opened up onto a different platform, this one closed off as Donnie had informed her, to form a hall-like area.

"Want me to take you to him?" Michaelangelo was asking, interrupting her mental review of the path.

"Oh, no no, Mikey." She smiled, reaching over the back of the couch to rub the top of his smooth, warm and bald skull as if ruffling up hair he didn't have. The gesture produced a little squeal from the ninja and he playfully batted her hand off. "I wouldn't want you to miss the climax after all! I'll be fine, I know the way…"

"Well, aight, but just holler if you get lost or something!" he called as she began to head off on her search.

Madeline nodded wordlessly a confirmation to his offer and quickly found the step. She passed beyond it, broom-cane sweeping the floor infront of her cautiously (after all she was staying with four young men who were probably apt to leaving weapons just laying around for people to trip on). Finding the place where the platform narrowed into the small service entrance, she ran her other hand over the wall as she walked until it fell away under her fingers. Entering the corridor tentatively, the only sound to keep her company in this chilly part of the deserted subway was the sound of her feet shuffling over the bare concrete.

As she went further along however, the distinct sounds of masculine grunts and the hollow –THWACK CLONK THWACK- of wood impacting wood came to her ears. Yes, Leo was definitely working out. Who else could it be? He was the only one unaccounted for this morning: Master Splinter was brewing a pot of green tea in the kitchen carriage, Mikey was watching cartoons and Donnie and Raph had gone up into the streets to get pizza.

When the side to side movements of the cane no longer touched the walls she knew she had emerged from the corridor and there was a profound agoraphobic sense of a wide open space. The air just seemed thinner and cooler, less cozy. A curious smell was in the air-- salty and yet slightly musky. So that was what a turtle working out hard smelt like?

"Leonardo?" she called his name softly and heard it echo.

Immediately the sounds of wood slapping together stopped and a silence stretched out. Madeline stood there and felt her hand tighten white-knuckled around the grip of the broom handle. She expected him to send her away. Had she infringed upon some personal ritual of his?

He had turned around to be greeted by a sight of beauty.

A shaft of watery daylight filtered through from a grate high above, spotlighting the girl and lighting her dark hair, her pale skin, in shades of silver. It was a dramatic contrast to the golden dim glow of the thousand candles lining the walls of this place, making it seem as if she were more then the darkness down here. Somehow celestial, even holding that stupid cane.

He dropped his _bokken _with a hollow clatter and turned away from the wooden dummy, drawn towards her as if his feet had a mind of their own. Silently he closed the distance between them until he hovered by her right shoulder, close enough he could feel her breath cooling the damp sweat on his body.

Minutes dragged by and he finally found his voice in something just above a whisper. "Is something ….. the ….. matter?"

It seemed his voice so close to her startled the blind woman, as if he had unintentionally snuck up. Madeline shifted on reflex to her left and almost ran into a tall candle stand. The trained-turtle's hands snapped out and gripped her around the shoulders, pulling her up short of spilling hot wax and flame all over herself, pulling her back in close to his body. "Be careful, there's candles everywhere in here. You don't want to burn yourself…" he mumbled by way of explanation.

"Oh, I didn't realize…" she murmured, sheepishly. As his hands smoothed over her thick, dark mane, searching for any singes and down her arms, the young woman held still. She was wearing the t-shirt they had found her in that night in the park, the only piece of clothing which had come away without any rips or tears from her assailants greedy hands. The memory of the man crushing her against the tree in the rain, his hands forced on her skin stirred a powerful sense of possessiveness in the eldest turtle. His hold tightened just above her elbows and he exhaled a deep sighing breath as his arms pulled her into a tight, unexplained embrace.

Distantly, Leonardo heard her utter a short, faint gasp of surprise as she came up against his solid frame. Her body stiffened defensively for the barest of moments then trembled and relaxed before her arms found their way around him to cling to the back of his shell. As he brushed the tip of his blunt snout against her soft hair, taking a deep pull of its scent, the ninja breathed: "No, my fault… I should have warned you…"

His hands spread wide and pressed tightly against her back rubbed slowly up and down from the small of her waist to the nape of her neck with something so close to tenderness it didn't matter. The comforting gesture drew a sigh of relief from her and he swore he heard her say his name.

Just that simple fact caused something to slam open inside his chest and his entire body to tighten so hard it hurt. They were alone and he didn't have to worry about his guilt now, just enjoy her touch, her smell, her warmth and the delicate sounds she made in his arms. He felt light headed, but that too was a pleasure in itself.

As he found it somewhere in his willpower to let go of her, Madeline took the loosening of his arms to mean the passing of the moment and began to pull away. Their cheeks grazed-- gently pebbled, rubbery green skin against smooth, soft pale flesh-- and Leonardo was startled as he sucked in the sweet taste of her exhale where it mingled on the tip of his tongue. All of a sudden, without his volition, the thought exploded in his mind and body: what would she taste like right then if he kissed her?

Could he kiss her? For a moment of suspended reality, Leo forgot the fact he was too gentlemanly to try and pondered just how their mouths, so different, would actually mesh together. He'd seen couples kiss before; in cheesy soap operas on TV, on the street. Human couples. The way they sunk their mouths deep into one another, their tongues twining in a moist dance eluded him now. After all, he had never seen a mutant turtle kiss like that…

Wait, what in the shell was he even THINKING?

"Leonardo?…" her voice whispered, close to his cheek, and he felt his pulse skip when he heard a subtle breathlessness to it. Had she been thinking the same thing? He felt her small fingertips slip down his shoulders to rest around his biceps, squeezing there gently, almost affectionately. For the first time in his life, the ninja felt his throat run dry.

"Y….Yeah?" he managed to reply, startled by how dry and soft his voice was.

"Thank you…"

The startled turtle saw her face lean closer, saw her rise up onto her tip toes, felt her hold on his arms tighten. He wanted to yell out 'stop!': for a heart-stopping instant Leonardo thought she was going to try. He was torn between fear of the unknown and alien desire.

But to both his disappointment and relief, the soft peals of her lips only pressed against the rounded curve of his cheek. He held still, so very still, feeling her warm breath against his face, until it felt an eternity later she slid back down onto her heels and her lips left him.

In the moment after, the young mutant was acutely aware of the rigid tightness of his muscles and the sudden watering of his mouth. A brief impulse to return the gesture, fulfill his curiosity and know what Madeline Breckin tasted like twisted in his gut. But chivalrous Leonardo managed to simply return the fond squeeze around her shoulders and say:

"You're welcome."

And there you have it, folks. The chapter which took almost nine months to write! Don't worry, I won't keep you waiting that long for the next one. Let's see if curiosity really seduced the turtle!


	9. Reality Invades

Author's comments: I'm back in the swing of it and have everything set out. I put my entire plot into storyboard form last night actually, in a few rough sketches, which usually helps my thinking process. So expect the updates to run more smoothly now. And should I ever neglect a fan fiction like that again, feel free to strangle me with a wet noodle! And I'm so pleased most of you reviewed and liked the new chapter, I was a little dubious as to if I had lost the feel of the whole thing after so long.

Disclaimer: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. My only claim to this is my OC 'Madeline'. (See comment above Disclaimer in chapter 1 for why not to sue me)

CHAPTER 9 --

After Leonardo had showered the sweat from his skin and removed his pads, the turtle was sitting around the card table out on the platform dressed in only his blue bandana.

Across from him, Michelangelo was discussing the Devil Bear episode of Scooby Doo that Madeline had apparently missed to the woman excitedly. His hands were waving around illustrating certain points of the retelling as if the younger brother had forgotten somewhere along the line he was talking to a blind girl…

Maddy didn't seem to mind, however, a smile on her face so sincere and happy that he almost wanted to change his mind about that kiss. Sitting there, her elbows resting gently on the edge of the tabletop and her pale hands wrapped around a mug of cocoa, she wasn't doing anything extraordinary. She didn't look any different to the hundreds of other girls he'd seen cluttering the cafes up in the streets. And yet, at the same time, Leo couldn't explain why she was suddenly so very different from all of them. He didn't have a reason for why he now found himself noticing the fine mahogany highlights in her dark hair or that small dimple which formed on the left side of her chin when she laughed at his brother.

"And then Shaggy and Scooby were all, like, 'zoinks!' and went running down this tunnel, right? So then this trap door comes out of no where and they both go falling down this really cool slide which just went 'round and 'round and round'…" Mikey coiled his left finger in circles in the air so fast it was a blur, tracing a tight spiral down onto the tabletop. "Then, bang! They both land right on top this fake bear costume! And--…."

The sound of footsteps descending the metal ladder across the station drew the turtle's attention from the antics. He lifted his head and watched as first the hem of the beaten trench coat came into view, and then the pair of green legs beneath it, Raphael coming down onto the platform first.

Leonardo's first thought was one of true elder brother fashion as he flicked a glance at the display of the VCR over the back of the couch and noted the time. The pair had been gone for over five hours! And he had no doubt that Master Splinter would remind them of that absence sternly when he emerged from his den…

Getting up from the table as smoothly as he could, taking care not to scrape the chair or disturb his brother and Madeline's fun, Leonardo stalked his way across the station and up the small flight of stairs to meet his two siblings on their way down to the platform. He crossed his arms over his chest for good measure. "What happened to you two? Did you go to Queens for pizza or something?"

Donatello shifted inside the bulky parka swaddling his body and shell, which drew Leo's attention to a large bulge protruding from under his left arm. Meeting the dark eyes framed by the purple cloth he didn't like the secret which hid there in the other's grim glance.

"…. Leo…. We have to talk, man…" Donny announced promptly, and the conspiratorial hush of his voice only confirmed his brother's fears.

At his side, Raphael shot a glance over Leonardo's shoulder as if to check the conversation was still running smoothly back at the table before latching a grip around his arm which was not to be debated. Together, Don and Raph dragged their brother the first few yards towards the alcove behind the ladder. That was until the fellow ninja had enough of the treatment and broke free of their hold with an exasperated sound. He didn't like the way his brothers had penned him into the shadowed recess, their backs to the stairs and platform, faces somehow alien in the dark.

"What the shell's going on, guys?" he snapped, rattled and masking his fear with anger.

In retort, Donatello pulled a stack of bright pink papers from under the parka-- the wad was as thick as his fist-- and shoved them, all of them, against Leo's plastron ungently.

Most of the papers spilled down around his feet with the dry rasp of parchment before the elder got enough wits about him to grab at a few, clutching them in his hands tightly as he lifted one up to look at it.

The first thing that struck him was the black and white photograph, grainy and a little blurred, standing out in stark contrast against the pink flyer. It was the face of that same young woman who had kissed his cheek this morning. The smiling likeness frozen in a moment out of time which reached into his chest and wrapped merciless claws of horror around his heart, tearing it right out of his chest and onto the floor…

"Madeline…..?" Somewhere in the back of his brain, Leo noticed his voice wasn't steady, but right then, he didn't exactly care either.

"We walked ten blocks collecting those things… They're plastered on every shop front and street light from Central Park to the 57th subway…" Raph growled, his voice hard and clear.

Every page was the same identical copy spat out by some machine, the words at the top of the page big and bold. Madeline's picture was directly under it with a brief, computer-font paragraph beneath and a phone number highlighted by italics at the bottom. It said:

MISSING 

Madeline Breckin

20yrs, 5'7ft tall, long dark brown hair, pale complexion, blind.

Last seen wearing dark blue jeans, white t-shirt and navy

corduroy jacket, carrying a white cane. Disappeared in the area

of Central Park, 28/09/05.

Anyone with any information please phone _957-632-811._

Leonardo felt a coolness trickle into his mind, seeming to creep from the back of his skull until it had numbed his thoughts and he was left standing in his brother's shadows holding the paper with nerveless hands.

"She belongs to someone up there, man… She's got to go back," Don was saying in a tone too rational for him right then.

The turtle tore the flyer in his hold in half and then once more out of pure spite and dumped the pieces on the floor with the rest. The sound of the paper shredding was damning and mirrored the feeling suddenly cutting up his chest. It made Raphael glare at his sibling, a long hard glare, and his scrutiny saw deeper into Leonardo in that moment than he had ever understood his brother…

"…. She's not some damn stray puppy we can just bring home and keep, Leo…" he hissed, clapping a hard grip down on the other's shoulder. "Those posters are just the start: sooner or later the cops are gonna come into it and I'm not gonna risk 'em comin' down here looking for some missin' blind chick."

To both their surprises, Leonardo's hand swept away the hold a little too aggressively and the oldest mutant turtle pushed past them, stalking between their bodies forcefully, out of the alcove. The set of his shoulders was rigid. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he paused at the top of the stairs, by the ladder…

Below on the platform, Mikey had finally reached the punch line of his story, and the girl let out a laugh which bounced off the high ceilings of the dilapidated subway, as carefree as a bird's song. The sound made that lump lodged in his chest throb.

"I know, okay?……. I know…."

Oh, no, could the spark between Leo and Maddy be snuffed out before it even has a chance to kindle? (That was poetic, wasn't it?) Who put up the missing posters? What's Madeline going to say when the boys tell her? And who's going to watch Scooby Doo with Mikey if she goes home! You'll just have to wait until the next chapter!


	10. Time To Go Home

Author's comments: I've noticed a few new names on my review lists and I want to thank both the readers who have just joined and the faithful few who have been with me on this since day one. What writer doesn't love feedback? And honestly, it thrills me to pieces when I see a Review Alert in my Inbox! Even if it's just a few words, please, if you're going to read this fiction, take the time to hit that button. After all, if you don't review, it's like getting this fic for free!…. What? Oh, it is free? …. Heh heh

By the way, you might not realize the first section above the isn't in either Leonardo or Maddy's POV, it's in Raphael's.

Disclaimer: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. My only claim to this is my OC 'Madeline'. (See comment above Disclaimer in chapter 1 for why not to sue me)

CHAPTER 10 --

"Oh dear…."

" 'Oh dear'!" Raphael echoed incredulously. His voice bounced off the high domed ceiling of the station and made the woman flinch. His patience had snapped.

After standing around that couch for what had felt like half an hour, just watching the blind woman smooth her thumb across the crumpled paper in her hand silently, his temper had reached boiling point. She hadn't said one word, not while their sensei had read the flyer aloud or for sometime after all discussion had died in the room. The silence bearing down on the subway, making the platform seem just that little bit bigger, colder and more empty, had prickled him. The red ninja's nervousness became anxiety and from there, anger.

"What the hell do you mean 'oh dear'! Those things are everywhere up there, girlie, and now all you can do is sit there and-- !"

_-SMACK!-_

The sharp sound of flesh impacting hard against flesh cut off the rising fury in his words. Raphael stumbled away from the couch and grabbed blindly for a handhold, managing to bump into the TV unit opposite before he lost his footing. One hand braced on the frame, the other rubbing at his smarting jaw, he glared at his brother now blocking his view of the woman sitting on the sofa.

The first sparkle of saltwater pooling in the corner of Madeline's dark lashes decided Leonardo and before he had even realized the consequences of his actions, his fist had lashed out at his brother. He just wanted to make Raphael stop. For some reason, there was a tightness seizing his chest that made him feel like the heart in there might split apart if he had to see a tear roll down that ivory cheek…

"Leonardo!" came the old rat's reprimand, as sharp as any blade the turtle had wielded. The world stopped for a split second and the four brother's froze, eyes locked on Splinter. Their father brought his cane down hard on the concrete floor, the sound booming. "Sit… back… down…"

Slowly, Leon made his fist relax and sunk back onto the cushions beside the human girl. He didn't look at her though, eyes flicking back and forth from the furious Raph to an equally irate Master.

"Michaelangelo," came Splinter's stern order. "Take your brother to put some ice on his face. Now."

"But--" the youngest son started.

A throaty 'hmph', that growl in the back of the rat's throat as he tapped his walking stick again and gave the orange-clad son a skewering glare over his shoulder, was enough to result in compliance.

"Donatello, assist him." The sensei added, and Donnie, smart enough to know arguing wouldn't get him anywhere, did as he was told.

The four brothers headed off the platform, disappearing into the carriages with Raphael swearing under his breath unprintable explanatives all the way. Which left Leonardo alone with Madeline, his father, and another silence so thick it choked him.

Between their thighs, sitting side by side on the lounge, he felt a fumbling touch graze his fingertips and glanced down to see the woman's trembling hand trying to work its fingers through his. When he took a look at her face, he saw fear in her clouded, vacant eyes which darted left and right like a scared child. Now he regretted his outburst more then ever for having put that fear into her gaze.

"It's okay…" he assured her, though he wasn't sure of the words himself. His thick fingers slide themselves between hers, two of her slender digits fitting between his and pressed their hands tightly palm to palm. "… It's over now…"

"I'm so sorry…" Madeline murmured, her shoulders curling inward as if she were trying to huddle into herself. "I didn't mean to put any of you in danger. Especially after you saved my life… Leo, I'm sorry…"

"Hey, don't be silly." the turtle assured her softly. He would have brought his other hand up to touch her if he hadn't been so conscious of Splinter's hard scrutiny boring into him from the other side of the couch. "You haven't done anything wrong, Maddy…"

Splinter interjected by clearing his throat rather firmly and deliberately. "You are the victim in this situation, young lady," he began, his tone harder then it should have been for sympathy. "However the fact remains that you have a life waiting for you above ground and now I think it is high time you went back to it."

Leonardo's finger's flexed around her small hand gripped tightly in his. Spoken aloud, those inevitable words dug under his skin like a nasty splinter. Why was this hurting so much?

With her head bent forward over her lap and her dark hair falling into her face, shielding her expression from him, Madeline nodded. Her voice, as she agreed with Splinter, was steady, but it wavered towards the end as if she were holding back tears behind her veil. "I understand, sir… I do have people up there who are worried about me," she sighed softly and the paper of the flyer in her hand crumpled as she gestured with it. "This does not leave me with any choice, after all, does it?"

Splinter made a gruff sound which was a definite as a 'no'. "I will gather your possessions and my son will escort you back to your home… tonight…."

Leonardo turned to watch the mutant rat shuffle away towards the carriages, the _tap... tap... tap _of his cane the only sound in the air now…

You just know Raph is going to kick Leo's butt in the dojo after that, huh? And so the blind woman is sent back to where she belongs, but what if Leonardo doesn't want to go back to where he belongs? Or maybe I'm just messing you all! You'll never know if you don't read on, will you?


	11. Mrs Tomkins

Author's comments: I've just noticed that my little line of --------- dividing my finishing comments and the ends of chapters isn't showing up on the last two I submitted and I'm at a loss as to why… However, I will continue to endeavour in fixing this little glitch and as always I do look back on my previous installments regularly. I am always correcting any tiny faults I may have missed or wording sentences better to make sure any future readers are viewing my best work. So while I do scrutinize my chapters quite strictly before I upload them, I think in future it might be safer to regard this as a work in progress.

Disclaimer: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. My only claim to this is my OC 'Madeline'. (See comment above Disclaimer in chapter 1 for why not to sue me)

CHAPTER 11 --

The walk through the sewers had been a solemn one. Madeline kept her hold on Leonardo's hand as he led her left, right, left again, following a path of tunnels so diverse she had no hope of predicting it. And all the while his grip had been limp, impersonal, as one might hold a piece of soap for fear it slipping out of their grasp if they clutched too tightly. She wanted to feel his fingers squeeze hers and offer some measure of comfort, but the young woman didn't have the faintest notion how to ask him for it.

Finally he had brought her to a ladder and after going up first to open the manhole cover, returned to climb the rungs close behind her. The first words the turtle had spoken to her since leaving the lair were directing her hands on the bars.

She emerged into a world which was surprising quiet. The white noise of traffic passing close by, distant sirens, and the patter of rain on the pavement. As Leonardo replaced the manhole cover, Madeline took a moment to lift her face to the raindrops, her lashes fluttering as the gentle pinpricks landed on her eyelids and cheeks. It seemed New York's wet weather was still lingering. How long had it been raining? She had lost her sense of time or days underground…

"Hey, stop that. You're gonna get soaked…" she heard the mutant ninja's voice say and was surprised by the penitent tone lurking under the words of concern. As she felt the weight of his coat being draped around her shoulders, she caught his hands and turned to face him, not letting go.

"Maddy? What're you doing? We need to get going or someone's gonna see m--" he began but she shushed him by pulling his arms around her and stepping in against his chest. Without explanation, the girl laid her head against his shoulder, feeling the cool, dampening nylon of the parka he wore over his body against her cheek.

"You shouldn't have hit him, Leonardo…." she murmured against the collar of the jacket.

He was silent for a long moment, she heard nothing but his shallow, slow breaths against her hair. Finally, his arms came up and settled around her, his hands rubbing her back with slow strokes. His exhale became a quiet sigh in her ear.

"He was bein' a jerk…" his masculine voice said softly. "Those posters weren't your fault and he had no right to…" He hesitated for a heartbeat. "…. to make you cry."

"But what if he is right?" she murmured, pulling her head away from his body to face him fully. Her body shuddered as a sudden bloom of chill crept up her spine beneath her clothes and made her shiver.

"Enough with the 'what if's'…" Leon put the subject aside as his hands slipped down to wrap around her shoulders, rubbing the exposed gooseflesh beneath the coat draped around her. "It's, like, minus 13 out here… Which way's your place from the 15th Avenue Station?"

It took Madeline a moment to regain her concentration, the feel of his textured fingertips smoothing over her cold skin transporting her for a moment. She felt other places in her body tingle and the urge to know what it felt like to be touched by those hands beneath her clothes made her cheeks burn.

Hoping she wasn't blushing too darkly, the blind woman murmured, keeping her voice soft for fear it may not have been too steady. "….I… erm…. East, I think… I live on 22nd Park Street…"

Leonardo, apparently oblivious to the reactions he had incited in her, said: "I know where that is… C'mon, let's go."

Once Leonardo asked her about a few landmarks, like Willie's Grocery Store on the corner and read a few street signs, Madeline seemed to get her bearings and he followed her as she navigated her path in the way only a blind person could. He wondered what it was like, not being able to see where you were going, but knowing exactly where you were. If Madeline lost her sense of direction at any time in the last five blocks, it couldn't be proved by him...

The closer they came, the more mixed the turtle's emotions became. One half of him wanted desperately to see her house, know where she lived, discover a tiny sliver of her life. But the other half knew that it would probably be the last time he saw the girl too. Once she shut her door behind her, would she want to just forget the mutant freak and get on with her life?

The gentle tug on his hand as Maddy came to a stop at his side made Leonardo halt and glance at her questioningly. "This is it," she said, smiling for him. The ninja turned to regard the building they had stopped infront of;

It was a block of apartments, no different to the dozen others lining this stretch of street, iron fences shielding a basement access, no front nature strip, no greenery. It was old red brick and about five stories tall, narrow, white-painted window sills dotting the front of it on each floor. There were lights on in four of them except the very bottom one and bars striping all of them. It was a bleak place to live, no character to speak of, just a big, ugly, old building.

Leonardo wanted more for her then to live in a place like that.

"Come inside…" he heard her voice whisper, so close to his ear that the rush of her warm breath over his skin shot a shiver through him. He startled and turned to look at her, wide eyed and agape. "Just for a little while, please, Leonardo…"

She couldn't see how much she had shocked him with the request, his more masculine impulses instantly sparking his imagination and treating him to a variety of scenarios she wouldn't dare entertain at the thought of being alone with the girl in her home.

Despite every good manner and sense of propriety he had, Leo still found himself saying: "Sure…"

Madeline led him by the hand, nearly dumbstruck _(what had possessed him to say yes!) _up the stoop and through the unlocked, black door into the little lobby area. Inside the narrow hallway which was tiled with black and white linoleum and lit by a bare bulb, he saw a set of stairs at the other end and two doors. One was directly to their right in a small alcove, painted white with a neat little sign saying BASEMENT across it. The other was a few yards further down, painted a dark brown which was bland in contrast to the faded burgundy paint on the walls. They passed a bank of mail boxes set into the wall and as the girl stopped outside the second doorway, Leonardo whispered quietly: "Did you loose your keys I the park? How are we gonna get in?"

"It's alright…" she assured him, speaking in the same hushed voice as if afraid to alert anyone to their presence downstairs. "I keep a spare…. up here…" As she said it, the blind woman stretched up onto her tip toes and brushed her fingertips, straining to just hook them over the edge of the upper doorframe. Something metal scraped and then a tarnished, chrome key fell off the narrow ledge onto the floor. Leonardo winced at the sound of it clattering on the lino and quickly bent to pick it up and hand it to the girl. She smiled sheepishly and fitted the key into the brass deadlock with practiced ease. Unlocking it and then the latch of the door handle, Madeline ducked inside, reaching out to gather a fistful of his parka and pull him across the threshold after her.

The turtle stumbled and he heard Madeline suppress giggles, her warm body caught up against his as the door banged frightfully loud behind him, the light from the hall disappearing to leave the apartment in darkness and the tangled pair ended up pressed against what he thought was the back of her door. His mind spun with the sudden realization she was pinned against his front, her hand locked onto the edges of the parka's hood either side of his face and her breath so close to his mouth he could practically taste her.

He was breathing heavier then he thought, his heart thundering with the adrenaline and excitement of maybe getting caught, but most of all, the way he could feel her smaller frame molded against his. He reached up and touched her damp hair in the darkness. Felt her quiver and whisper his name.

And Leonardo decided right then and there, reality be damned, he was going to kiss her…

_**-THUD THUD!-**_

Madeline jerked against him and gasped with fright. Leonardo felt the door vibrate with the knocking on the other side and groaned.

"Hello? Madeline? Is that you in there, dear?" a thin voice came from out in the hall.

"Mrs Tomkins…" Madeline murmured and squirmed beneath him. It was about then Leonardo broke out of his daze enough to realize he was still pinning her against the door.

Quickly he stepped off and cleared his throat, mortified and utterly embarrassed when he thought about what he had been about to do…

"Yes, yes, it's me, Irene!" Madeline called out in the dark. In a more urgent murmur she said to him: "Move over there and keep quiet, Leo, please…"

Obediently, the mutant turtle shuffled to her right, bumping his hip on a cupboard or table of some sort behind the door and mouthed an exclamation of _'ouch!'_ silently as Madeline opened it to deal with the person on the other side…

I'm sure you're all thinking it! Darn Mrs Tomkins!


	12. Coffee and Questions

Author's comments: I think I owe my readers a pretty good explanation for the gross lapse between chapters here

Author's comments: I think I owe my readers a pretty good explanation for the gross lapse between chapters here. I am not even going to try and put an estimation on when Chapter 11 was done, but I imagine it is bordering on the measuring stick of three or four years. My life went downhill fast shortly after my last update and I chose to simply ignore the urgent and sometimes cranky reviews I was getting demanding I post the next chapter up soon. And yes, I did leave it at a cliff-hanger of sorts, but not intentionally. I don't wish to divulge a massive sob story, but I got very sick and am likely to stay very sick for the rest of my life and that is all I care to divulge. But now, after reading back over the old chapters, I feel a sense of motivation again which was robbed from me and I want to complete this….

-- CHAPTER 12 --

"Madeline? Where have you been, sweetheart, we've all been so worried about you!"

The moment the blind girl opened the door wide enough she felt a pair of thin, soft, warm hands press against her cheeks, pulling her forward in an awkward half-step before wiry arms locked around her body under her arms and her chin rested on a crown of curls which smelt like lemon cough syrup and camphor. By the thick knitted texture she could feel under her fingertips as she reached around the small, thin frame to rub her hands up and down the hunched back, Madeline knew without question it was Irene.

And she was beyond distraught.

After crushing the breath from her in a hug tighter then she thought the old woman possessed the strength to perform, Mrs Tomkins stepped back, but she kept her gnarled hands locked tightly around her shoulders with a grip so fierce the girl didn't expect to be released any time soon.

"Goodness gracious, Madeline, I have been worried sick ever since you didn't come up on Tuesday! I was frantic!" Irene fussed as she switched from crushing Madeline's arms to seizing her hands and the girl fought to keep the painful wince off her features when her knuckles seemed to grate together, compressed too tightly.

_Tuesday_. Of course. It had been Monday night when she had gone for her walk and every Tuesday night, once a week, she was expected upstairs at No. 4 at no later then 5pm for their dinners together. So very seldom was she ever absent without calling that the only time it had occurred in the three years since she had moved into the building Irene had the super, Mark, driving around to the hospitals looking for her. There had been a train strike that day and Madeline had been stranded at the Central station until eight o'clock that night, arriving back to find her aged friend had pestered the local precinct into putting a radio description of her out to all its cars!

She could only imagine the flurry of worry and activity the woman in front of her had then flown into when she had failed to arrive this week…

Which caused another thought to raise in her mind and tumble from her lips. Her voice still sounded breathless to her own ears, reminding her even as she spoke, of the mutant turtle huddled behind her door at that moment. "Tuesday…. What day is it?"

This produced an eruption of spluttering sounds from Irene who gasped and replied incredulously. "What d--… Why I!… It's Wednesday evening, Madeline! You've been missing for three, whole days!"

The dark-haired young woman could do nothing but blink her sightless eyes as that fact registered in her comprehension, so many adjoining things clamoring around it, attached to it, that she literally was overwhelmed for one, long moment of silence.

"Three days…? Oh, no, Irene, please tell me you didn't place a missing persons report!" she gasped, the consequence finally bursting through all those others to the forefront of her brain. Three days. That was seventy-two hours and more then enough for her to officially be declared missing by legal standards. If Irene had done it again and the authorities were still out there looking for her then the brothers could be in more danger then any of them thought. All it would take was one witness who 'thought' they saw her in a certain area and then manhunts would be dredging through the sewer system in no time searching for her body…

"No, no, no, not yet, but if you weren't back by tonight I would have called them! I did make flyers, though! That nice doctor upstairs, Mr Gregory, went out and put them up for me…"

Faintly, the girl thought she heard a sound like someone was choking on a breath and knew that Leonardo was thinking the exact same thing as she: here was the source of those devastating, obnoxious posters…

"Well at least you're alright!" the old woman sighed in relief, apparently oblivious to the secondary presence inside the apartment. "Come on, let me make you a nice cup of cocoa and you can tell me what happened…" Irene moved to slip past the young woman on the threshold with as much familiarity as was normal for their relationship: any other time it was nothing for the elderly neighbor to come in for visits and chocolately drink.

Madeline startled out of her thoughts which had momentarily sucked her inward, recalling the sound of the old rat's dry voice reading her description aloud off the paper, only just remembering the mutant less then three feet behind her, hidden by the door. "Oh! Irene, wait a moment, please!…" she interrupted a little too shrilly as the small, but determined frame got past her and began shuffling into the room behind. She heard the frail hands swiping over the wallpaper looking for the light switch and panicked.

"Why is it so dark in here, dear?" Mrs Tomkins grumbled, murmuring her fond complaint about the odd habits of today's youth, just as the young woman turned and grasped out into air desperately hoping to catch a thin shoulder and hold the other up.

For that second time screeched to a halt: she heard the sound of sneakers softly padding across her carpet, barely discernable beneath the continued breathy mumbles and the soft clack of a door further into her flat closing shut, the latch slipping into place. It was almost negated by the seemingly deafening _-CLICK!-_ as Irene found the little panel and flicked the switch. Madeline heard her heart bang in her ears, just once, silence yawning all around her and then, with a jolt, reality seemed to fall back into pace.

Irene Tomkins had not shrieked, she was not screaming about a green, mutant, upright turtle dressed in a parka standing in the middle of her living room and by some small miracle the girl knew Leonardo had retreated to one of the other areas in time…

Her relief was so profound she felt momentarily like a puppet with her strings cut, grasping a nearby doorframe to keep on her weak legs. The sound of the metal canister she kept her sugar in being set down on the bench told her Irene was now in the kitchen, the hiss of the electric kettle growing loud enough to fill the apartment. Trying to formulate a plan to uproot the old woman quickly and send her back upstairs, Madeline turned and groped until she found the door handle, pushing it shut but not locking it behind her.

The thought to go left and try to find Leonardo in the direction of her bedroom, where she was sure he had gone, crossed her mind. It was stowed though when the thin voice of Mrs Tomkins called her to the right-- "One or two sugars, dear?" came the question. Every time they had hot chocolate, Irene asked and every time they had hot chocolate, Madeline replied that she had two. She had always had a sweet tooth, after all.

Deciding if she did not come that Irene may very well start looking for her, Madeline sighed, abandoning the ninja to his hiding place and began tracing her path down the short hallway to her kitchenette. She did not need a cane in this space, for years of familiarity told her just how many steps she needed to take, where every turn was and where to reach to pick up certain items. Everything was where and how it had always been.

As she passed through the narrow door and onto the linoleum floor, the sound of the kettle reaching its boiling point and clicking off announced her arrival. Madeline came to bench on the other side of the U-shaped cabinet set up, away from the stove and the jug, letting the old woman make their cups.

"Gracious, Madeline, you look awful!" Irene said as the sound of water being poured filled the quiet. "What on earth happened to you, sweetheart?"

The girl listened to the musical _–tink…tink-_ of the spoon hitting the rim of the mug as the sugar was dropped in, followed by the lilting rattle of its stirring through, contemplating just what answer to give.

She certainly couldn't tell the truth and mentioning the attack in the park which had started all of it would only send Mrs Tomkins into such a panic that it was liable to make matters worse. An awkward silence stretched out and Madeline heard the other stop her ministrations, knowing even without seeing that she was being watched expectantly. Schooling her features into a less distressed mien, she said:

"I… got mugged. But I am alright now, really…"

It sounded canned, but had an immediate effect on Irene. The spoon went clattering to the floor, making Madeline jump visibly and the flood of questions began. "Oh my goodness! Where? Did they hurt you? Why didn't you come home, dear?! You could have called!"

By that reaction alone, Madeline knew then that Irene Tomkins would definately never know the truth. She wrestled with that plethora alone, trying to conjure answers and succeeding only with the last of them.

"I hit my head." she told the elder, who had come over to pat her hand on the bench top gently. That part at least was not an outright lie. "I woke up in a hospital somewhere and they refused to let me out of bed. I couldn't get to a phone, I'm sorry…"

"Which hospital, dear? I checked the Mercy General and Country State."

It was Irene, sweet but panicky Irene. Of course she had checked the hospitals…

"Erm, maybe it was a neighborhood clinic…" the young woman corrected herself. "I never thought to ask what it was called…"

It seemed to work for the woman, who gave her hand a final squeeze and withdrew, shuffling back over to finish the cocoa. "Of course, you must have had quite a shock, dear." she said, "I'm just glad you're home now and safe."

Madeline analyzed her own feelings and wondered if she could say the same thing: a part of her still wanted to be sitting at that little table on the station platform, talking about Scooby Doo with Mikey…

Something was put down on the bench next to her and Irene guided her fingertips a few inches until they bumped the handle of the cup. Once satisfied she had it firmly in her grasp, the old woman began tsking with fervor.

"I don't know what is wrong with people these days," Irene went on. "So much violence! Why, just yesterday I saw that nice shy Warren from downstairs. He had terrible bruises all over his face! And a big lump on his head too! He said someone beat him on the subway coming home. Can you imagine?!"

It took Madeline a moment to call the person in question to mind: Warren was the quiet-voiced young man who lived with his father Mark, their building super. She had spoken to him in passing, strange and halting conversations about the weather when they put their garbage out and happened to be in the alley at the same time. She knew very little about him except that he was slightly older then herself. Still, she felt sorry for him…

He probably had not had the luxury of four mutant turtle ninjas coming to chase off his attacker…


	13. First Kiss

Author's Comments: After logging into my account for the first time in years, I was both ashamed and happy at the comments thi

Author's Comments: After logging into my account for the first time in years, I was both ashamed and happy at the comments this story had received. I think an apology doesn't quite cut it but I am motivated to see that right up to 2008 this story is still being read and reviewed. And thank you for that. Thank you so much…

-- CHAPTER 12B --

Irene had thankfully forgone the usual habit of getting out biscuits to go with their cocoa and after nearly an hour of standing leaning against the bench her 'old bones' complained so much she had decided to head back to her own apartment. Madeline felt rude not offering to go into the living room and sit on the couch, but doing so would only have thwarted her agenda of clearing the old woman from her flat.

She did walk Mrs Tomkins to the door, however, and before she managed to shut and lock it the girl had found herself promising to go down to the local precinct the next day to file an official report. Anything just to have Irene leave.

Finally the deadlock clacked shut and Madeline found the chain hanging on its fixture by the threshold, slipping it into the slide on the panel with practiced ease. The young woman then promptly collapsed against the wood, leaning her forehead there and letting out a long exhale…

Two footfalls on her carpet told Madeline that Leon had deemed it safe enough to come out of his retreat. The sound was probably a courtesy for the ninja, but she appreciated it all the same.

Turning, her back still against the door, Madeline smiled for him. Her lips were unsteady and her cheeks flushed: the brush of the wood-grain against her back had reminded her at the most inopportune moment of the last time she had been there…

By the distant glow of the light still on in the kitchen, the turtle could make out her body there in the dark alcove of the doorway. The dimness gave her figure a kind of mystery and sensuality his brain could not quite grasp but nevertheless made his heart start hammering in his ears louder then before.

"Leonardo…" she breathed softly. The sound of it made his blood heat up.

"Who's Warren?" the mutant found himself blurting out.

He saw her move away a half step from the threshold, emerging out onto the edge of the light where it spilled across the floor. Its garish luminance touched the corner of a cheekbone, lit up the fine strands of her hair and showed the crease which formed on her brow.

"….What?" she asked, sounding as puzzled as she looked by the sudden question.

"She mentioned the guy, Warren…" he elaborated, even as some part of his brain was asking him why he wanted to know so badly. "You sounded upset…"

And she had: he heard her. The subject of the 'nice, shy young man's injuries continued for a few minutes, long enough that Leonardo had heard the response from Madeline about sending him a 'get well' card.

And for some reason, he had wanted to give the male another bruise to go with his collection...

Now he watched her replay her own words in her mind, the flitting changes of expression subtle in the dark, but there. When the girl seemed to reach her own conclusion, she wrapped her arms around her body tightly and frowned, shaking her head.

"I was just… I was only being polite." Madeline explained, a defensive edge coming to her voice. She did not like the feeling which had sprung up from no where, as if she was being accused of something. "Leo, what…?"

The change in her tone had an effect on the thoughts running through the turtle's brain. He heard that appealing quality and from there his mind snowballed. In a matter of seconds he was asking himself the question: _did Madeline like this Warren? Like him 'that way'? _

He felt angry and it frightened him that he didn't know why. Sighing, Leonardo forced the tension out of his body and let the line drop. He should have left when she was finishing her coffee with the elderly neighbor, not stayed around to eavesdrop on her life. Her human life. Above ground.

"I… I'm just going to go home…" he said at last, his shoulders slumping. The turtle crossed the room and began to pass her on his way for the door, adding: "It's probably better I don't come around anymore. It was nice meeting you…"

Madeline went straight-backed like she had been slapped and whirled around on the spot, reaching out to snatch at the air until she caught him by his parka sleeve. He was surprised by her grip, actually stopping short of the door handle to turn and look at her. Back-lit by the kitchen light down the hall, she was little more than a silhouette, but her voice told him everything he needed to know of her expression.

"_It was nice meeting me?!_ Leon, what… what has gotten into you?!" she asked, the words quivering as if she might be close to tears.

Indeed, Madeline was. Hot saltwater had already traced a burning path down her cheek as her mind screamed. What had suddenly gone wrong so very quickly in the past minute that he was about to walk right out of her flat and her life like this? Over an hour ago he had held her close in the rain and when they had come inside…

"Are you angry with me?" she asked, knowing she sounded distressed but unable to stop her throat tightening around the hard lump rising there. "Did I say anything to--?"

"I'm not angry!" Leonardo retorted, his own voice growing heated. He _was_ angry, angry at himself for the tangle of emotions that had decided to constrict his heart inside his chest. Most of all he felt jealous and he felt like an idiot. "I'm just…"

"Just what? Leonardo, please, don't…"

He cut her off with a frustrated sound and then, before either of them had the chance to go on, he kissed her.

Madeline found herself grabbed firmly by her shoulder and pulled tight into his body, hard enough she felt the unyielding warmth of his plastron under the nylon coat. Her breath fled out of her chest, her lips dropping open in a wordless gasp and a second later his mouth was pressed against her own.

The kiss was awkward and rushed at first: Leonardo had bumped his snout against her nose and pursed his lips as much as he was able to. That contact was all that became the gesture until her small hands reached up between them and took his face in her hold. Gently the young woman tilted her head just so, breathing out a heady little noise that made him shiver and then they fit like two pieces of the same puzzle. Her cheek slid against the underside of his curved face and the press of her mouth became perfectly centered exactly where he wanted her.

His lungs demanded breath but the ninja defied the need in favor of the sensation of her lips parting, the tip of her tongue skimming his bottom swell. He needed no further encouragement to deepen the contact and finally, finally he knew what Madeline Breckin tasted like.

Sweet, like the faintest hint of chocolate that still lingered on her. Beneath that was an indescribable palate that he could only call feminine and inviting.

With a whimper Madeline pulled away, gasping and clutching at him. He too fought to regain his breath, wrapping her completely in his arms and burying his face in her dark hair, puffing great heaves of warm air onto her neck.

"Don't leave," she was saying next to his ear. "Please, don't leave."

"I won't." he promised her, not certain his body would even obey the command to let go of her right then.

Leonardo found himself kissing her a second and a third time before he could release her. His brain was positively spinning inside his skull and his lips tingled to the point it was unbearable. He could have done it again and again too, the swordmaster knew and it was that fact which forced him to break his promise in a sense, to leave for the brother's lair.

He told her he would come back tomorrow night --and damn what the rest of them thought about that-- asking her if she needed anything. The question sparked off a blush to her pale face that nearly made him shut the window and come back inside. Madeline assured him she would be alright and that she would wait for him to return. She did kiss him goodnight, but this time on his cheek. It felt so different to the brush of her lips that morning in the dojo, making a jolt of sensation spark through him.

Grinning, he shut the pane behind him and felt like shouting a cry the entire city would hear!


	14. A Secret Is Born

Author's comments: FunkyKiwi, I'm so glad that you are actively reviewing this neglected tale and if for no other reason than your audience, I am determined to finish it. ;) Thank you!

Disclaimer: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any names, characters, places or events therein covered by the copyright. My only claim to this is my OC 'Madeline'. (See comment above Disclaimer in chapter 1 for why not to sue me)

-- CHAPTER 13 --

By the time the eldest brother returned to the station lair it was late enough that Leonardo felt the need to employ stealth. If he were lucky enough that the others weren't waiting up for him then he was in no mood to rouse them otherwise.

Descending the few rungs down the metal ladder, he tossed a glance over his shoulder and found that most of the overhead floodlights had been switched off, leaving the platform in relative dimness. The television was dark and silent and the table near the train car actually cleared off, lacking dirty dishes or random junk cluttering its surface. It looked stark, like someone had made an obvious attempt to clean up. And the blue-banded ninja could not help but feel it was a gesture made for him.

With deft ease Leo slid down the rest of the drop, hands slipping over the outer struts of the metal to drop him quietly onto the cold concrete without a sound. At the bottom, he shrugged out of his wet parka, the nylon material whispered against itself as he removed it, hanging it over a small valve wheel protruding from the pipes lining the alcove edge before he emerged onto the stairs.

One step at a time, until he reached the bottom and still no sign of occupation. Finally, the turtle allowed the grin to break out onto his features and his shoulders sagged in relief. His smile was full-blown showing all of his straight, white teeth against his dark complexion, the silly look bellying the caution with which he padded over the platform towards the box car parked on the rails.

Passing the table, an irregularity in the dark caught his eye and when he turned to inspect its surface he found that it had not been cleaned off as completely as first thought. Folded up into a long rectangle was a sheet of paper, his name scrawled on the surface facing up with a familiar hand.

Only Raph wrote like that: sharp and jagged strokes, as if impatient to finish one word and move along to the next. His script was like his fighting style- wild and sometimes unfocused.

The memory of his last interaction with his brother reared in Leonardo's mind and he almost left the missive there. But a step away and his curiosity got the better of him. Brows creasing in contemplation, the swordmaster turned on his heel and swept it up into his hand before heading into the carriage and to his bedroom at the end.

Not until the sliding door was shut carefully, very carefully to avoid the panel knocking against the frame, did Leonardo try to light the lamp in his room. It took only a moment in order to find the matches on his bookcase, even in the dark and another to pluck one out between his blunt fingertips. He lit the prayer candle on the shrine at one end of his room and snuffed out the taper, quickly unfolding the letter in his grasp to read it. The paper scraped against itself as he straightened it out and read the words by the glow of the tiny flame shining through the layer to reveal their outline.

Surprisingly, for an entire page, there was very little printed there.

_Leo,_

_Sorry about the chick. I know you're gonna miss her._

_Left you some pepperoni pizza in the refridgerator and a dr pepper._

_Splinter wants us to train first thing. All of us._

_See you there._

_Raph._

"Huh, well, what do you know…" Leo murmured wistfully to himself as he re-folded the letter and slipped it onto his shrine table. It was maybe the closest thing to an apology he could remember coming from his hot-headed and stubborn sibling. Which made it something to be valued indeed.

Considering what to do about the letter, the ninja quietly went about undressing for sleep: first unstrapping his katanas from their harness across the back of his shell and then working on the thick pads as every joint. Last went the bandana bound tightly across his eyes, the knot unworked with his thick digits and the cloth wound into a heap atop the small but orderly pile of equipment in front of his bookcase.

_I know you're gonna miss her,_ he had written. If only Raphael knew, the turtle mused, a smile returning to him as he relaxed bonelessly onto his mattress. The worn springs groaned faintly with his weight as the turtle tossed a leanly sculpted arm above his head, splayed across his pillow heavily and cocked a knee to lean it against the wall.

His memory inorexably returned to hours before, in Madeline's apartment, when he had indulged that crazy impulse that hammered inside his brain. When he had been so afraid she had liked another man that he had been prepared to squander his last moments with her to storm out like a child. When he had pulled her against him and kissed her… And she had not only let him, she had actually kissed him back!

_Am I going crazy? Please don't let that be just a dream…_ Leonardo silently pleaded to whatever deity would listen.

Just as his eyelids had begun to grow heavy and the memories of that human girl began to blur in his mind's sight, three distinct taps sounded above his head against his doorframe. Leo's gaze snapped wide awake and he sat up to stare over his shoulder at the threshold, watching as the panel was slid open.

Mikey stood there in the few inches exposed by the open door. He was without his garb also, obviously having already turned in some time ago, the brown eyes of his little brother unfocused from sleep.

"Hey, Leo," his sibling croaked, his usually jovial voice scratchy. Absently, Michelangelo also scratched at where his neck met his plastron. "You up?"

It was a redundant question, but Leonardo humored him, nodding silently in the dark.

"Listen, man..." the other began softly, pausing as if he wasn't sure how to say it. "I… I liked her a lot too… And even though Splinter says it's better this way, I wish she coulda stayed… Watched cartoons with me and shit… Erm, well, listened to 'em… Whatever, you know."

The elder managed to tone the smile that crept onto his lips, wary that despite the shadows he was still being watched. The corners of his mouth twitched, just a little, in what he hoped could have been more of a grimace. Mikey shrugged and shook his head.

"Anyways, if you wanna talk, you can always come to me, aight? I'm here for you, bro…"

"I know, Mikey." Leo whispered as softly as he could, feeling as if his breath barely passed his lips. "Thank you…"

"Cool. See you in the mornin'."

And with that the door shut behind him, muffling the slightly shuffling steps as Michael went back across the hallway and into his own room once more. Leonardo listened for the _-clok!-_ of his door shutting behind him and when it came, he sagged against his knee, letting out a tense exhale.

It felt wrong to lie to them, no matter how he tried to justify it. Technically he had done just what Sensei had asked and taken Madeline home. But that fact was followed up by the promise he had made to the young woman herself to return tomorrow night. Master Splinter had not told him not to go back, not exactly, but then the whole idea of the excursion had been to sever his ties to the human for good and that very intention went against the concept. It would be a poor defense if he was caught.

As Leonardo drifted back towards sleep one half of his moral fiber complained at the dissemble of his plan while the other half was excited by the thought of breaking the rules…


End file.
